Epilogue
Cal
I believe her when she tells me she'll slit my throat if I try to leave her again.
And I don't blame her.
When she first asked me to sedate her and turn her into my little doll, I was so focused on doing what I'd promised that it didn't even occur to me that she was leaving me.
Maybe not in the way that I tried to leave her.
She was going to leave me with her body, sure, but she was going to take away the part of her that I enjoy most.
She punished me for trying to leave her by moving us in with Dex and Katrina for months so that none of us would be alone if we wanted to try something. I think that was code for ‘in case you’re still suicidal’ but I let her have her way... or Katrina’s way.
They've gotten awfully close. I'm not mad about it, but I do resent their friendship when I want my wife to myself.
Katrina makes my best friend and my wife happy, so the fact that I fucked her and almost killed her is kind of low on my list of concerns, especially since I've been in speech therapy, physical therapy, and regular therapy.
We’re all in the last one, sometimes even group therapy so we can air out our grievances over who left the toaster on the counter (Katrina), who drank the last of the coffee (Dex), or who was caught fucking on the dining room table (Amber and I).
In my defense, they were supposed to be out of town that weekend.
For the most part, we've divided the place so that we all have a fair amount of privacy. It's let me see Katrina and Dex in real life, which made it easy for me to support him when he showed me the engagement ring he picked for her.
Amber approved emphatically.
I don't know how long we're going to live together with our best friends. We are a married couple, after all. Despite the hell we've been through, we're still in the honeymoon period. Which is why, when I decide to punish her, I decide not to be too hard on her.
"What are we doing here?" Amber asks, turning to me when I put the car in park.
It's been months since we went on a rampage together. Months since her last kill, and even longer since mine.
If anything good came from my suicide attempt, it's that I seem to have slayed my beast. Or maybe it's still just having her, the fact that she lets me own her heart, body, and soul. I have complete control over her, anytime, anywhere.
We established the ground rules for that early on. Free use at all times, so long as it isn't done with the intention to degrade or devalue our marriage. That includes sliding into her perfect cunt in the middle of the night, flipping her over, and waking her up by folding her in half.
I can't get enough of her, and she can't seem to get enough of me.
"Your punishment." I tell her. She shivers once already, and I wonder if it's from the idea of a punishment or because of the way I say it.
She swears my voice is deeper than it used to be, and it is apparently a massive turn-on for her.
The shit she has had me say to her has made me do a double take, but she likes to play hard.
Our therapist said that fulfilling kinks in a controlled manner lets her rewrite her trauma.
.. the ones that I can't undo. Letting her pretend she's at my mercy, that she has no control, gives her a chance to experience things her brain thinks her body shouldn't crave while knowing that she's safe.
She's always safe with me.
Even before I was certain we'd killed my beast, I never would have let her get hurt.
Just like I never let myself get hurt. It's why I ultimately failed, because my body knew what my brain didn't... that I wanted to live.
It's why I faltered, why I didn't hit the artery, why I wasn't able to cut as deep as I thought I could.
"Punishment?" She frowns. "What for?"
"You really can't think of anything?" I muse, watching her lips part as she stares at my mouth.
Fuck, she's a naughty little thing. She's absolutely insatiable.
When she shakes her head, I shake mine, too, letting her know not to commit to that answer.
"I—" She thinks, racking her brain. "Is it because I made out with Katrina last week?"
I groan because it's not about that at all. And now that she's put the thought in my head, I'm already hard.
"No, little doll." I shake my head. "If you want to kiss your friends, kiss your friends. If you want to fuck her, fuck her."
Her eyes widen with shock, but I clock the way her chest rises and falls faster. She's thought about it, whether she's ready for me to know that or not.
"I—"
"You can fuck my friends, too, if you want. I don't care what you do because your body knows who it belongs to, doesn't it?"
Her cheeks are red, and it's so glorious I could eat her alive.
I may, if she doesn't put some space between us soon, because the thought of watching Katrina and Dex fuck my wife is unexpectedly erotic.
I don't know how to contend with that, but I guess that's a good topic for next week's group therapy.
"You." Her voice is choked with desire. "My body belongs to you."
"And?"
"And my heart." She breathes. "My soul."
"That's right." I agree coolly. "So why did you think you could leave me, little doll? You gave me hell for trying to leave you, but you tried to go first. And I simply can't let that go unpunished."
"Cal, I—"
I shake my head, cutting her off.
"Out."
She doesn't move when I step out of the car, watching me completely bewildered as I stalk around to the passenger side and throw her door open so hard it makes a concerning crack.
I don't give her a chance to realize her mistake, dragging her out of the car with one hand wrapped around her pretty throat.
The fear in her eyes tangles with her desire, and I see what it's doing to her.
"Strip."
The command takes her by surprise. Her mouth falls open.
"Cal—"
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Strip," I say again, reaching into my back pocket where I stashed the knife when I got out of the car. "Or I'll cut your clothes off you myself."
We've discussed our limits. We've discussed how far we're willing to go for the fantasy. We've discussed how we can shut it all down with a single command.
But she doesn't want to shut it down. She wants this.
Her eyes dart around the woods, looking for any signs of anyone out here other than just us.
I leave her to give her the option as I go to the door, free the padlock, and roll it up. When I turn back to her, she's still standing there in her dress, watching me in disbelief. I love that she chose the hard way.
"Brave, babydoll. Very brave."
She shivers at the name babydoll. It just rolled off my tongue, but I kind of like it.
I don't let myself enjoy it too long, though, because I lunge at her, grabbing her by the back of the neck and jerking her against me.
My hard cock presses into the small of her back as I walk her with the knife at her throat into the warehouse. I release her to pull the door closed behind us, locking it in place.
We don't need any intruders, well-intentioned or not. I'm open to sharing my wife with the right people, but I'm not going to let anybody have this part of her. This vulnerable, wonderful thing she's giving me... it's for me, and me alone.
When I turn back, it seems she's got the idea right. Such a fast learner, my little doll. She stares at me for just a second as I unlock my phone, navigating to my Spotify.
"A Killer Playlist?" She asks, her laugh coming out breathy.
"A sexy killer playlist." I correct her as Closer by Nine Inch Nails fills the maze of warehouses.
She laughs out loud this time, breaking the facade for just a second as the lyrics wash over her. And then she bites her lip, the lust overtaking her sense of humor.
"Should I count?" I ask. "I'll close my eyes and count to three, but if you haven't moved when I'm done, I'll spend the rest of the night edging you... over and over again until you beg me to let you come."
Edging has become something of a hobby for me lately, but my little doll doesn't appreciate ruined orgasms as much as I enjoy giving them to her.
That gets her to run.
I close my eyes so I don't see which way she goes. The place is one giant labyrinth, but it's also arranged in a circle. There's no exit other than the one I'm standing in front of. She knows that as well as I do.
It's not a matter of if I catch her; it’s a matter of when.
It's why I added a little bit of fun, to spice things up. A press of a button turns the fog machines on, and I hear her yelp in surprise from somewhere. I give her a minute to enjoy that before turning the strobe lights on, watching the world around me turn choppy.
She doesn't know how badly I wanted to chase her the last time we were here. My beast may be gone, but I'm still a fucking predator.
And my wife? She's my perfect prey.