Chapter 3 #2
“Anyway,” I sigh. “Let’s not spoil my fun, shall we?
” Grabbing the egg chopper that I placed down earlier, I make sure the blade is down and grab his soft, sausage-like dick in my opposite hand.
It’s a struggle to keep the small appendage in my grip seeing as it keeps slipping out, along with Chris wriggling around so I grab the base tightly and squeeze it to keep it in place.
Chris yelps from how hard I’m holding his one-eyed worm and whilst I’ve got it in place, I slip the bulbous head through the hole of the chopper and slide it down until it’s nestled in his forest of pubes.
“Look at that, it doesn’t even touch the sides.” I snigger at the sad looking sight before me. Maybe all the vile and vicious acts he’s committed has caused it to shrink, or maybe he was always just a little limp dick in the first place.
Anger floods his face at my comment. “You fucking bi–”
I cut him off by pushing up the blade until it grazes his flesh. “I would suggest that you choose your next words very carefully, I’d hate to slip.” A wicked grin pulls at my lips and Chris snaps his mouth shut, the muscles in his jaw ticking away.
“That’s a good boy,” I coo. “Seems you can behave when you want to, it’s just a shame that you couldn’t behave all those years ago.
All of this could have been avoided if you’d have just left me alone, but you didn’t.
You chose to follow me that night, you chose to hurt me, to violate me and now it’s only fair that I give it back to you. ”
His whole body begins to vibrate, a sickening dread washing over his already pale face at the realisation of what's to come. “Pl..please, don’t do this.. I, I can be better. I’ve changed!
” The lies spill from his mouth like thick tar.
Words that I’ve heard over and over again, it’s all bullshit when it comes to people like Chris.
They never learn and they never change. It’s engrained into their DNA, their character. It’s in their blood and if I have to rid the world of these vile monsters one by one, then that’s what I’ll do
I grip the handle of the chopper tightly, then with my opposite hand I hold onto the guillotine blade, the sharp point pressing firmly into his soft appendage.
“That’s what they all say.” My words have no emotion to them, they’re just sharp and dry and as soon as they leave my mouth, I force the blade through his dick.
The meat is tough at first but once I’ve gotten half way through, the razor sharp blade slices through with ease. Blood spurts over my hands, spraying like a hosepipe as I cut through the last inches of sinew and skin.
Chris screams as he arches his back off the table, teeth grinding together as he tries to fight through the pain. His hands ball into fists until the veins underneath his skin threaten to burst.
“Oh, fuck.. what have you done?!” He whimpers through bated breaths and I swear I can see his heart ramming against his chest. The juicy muscle threatening to burst free from its ivory cage.
Hearts make the perfect filling for cherry pies and soups, the blood is a beautiful rich red that just can’t be achieved by food dyes.
Now is not the time to be thinking about a new recipe, Brynne.
“You.. fuck, you–” He stutters.
I roll my eyes and grab Chris’s now detached dick. “I cut your dick off, would you like to see?” I say, lifting up the floppy sex worm. It flops from side to side as blood continues to spill down my arm.
Chris groans then vomit spills from his mouth, coating his chest in a sticky red substance but he doesn’t just do it once.
It happens two more times. It fires out of his open mouth like a volcano and now I’m just waiting for his head to start spinning around, or to tell me that my mother sucks cocks in hell.
I mean, she probably does but if that’s what she likes to do in her spare time then cool, I guess.
Once Chris has finished expelling the entire contents of his stomach, I place his limp dick onto a metal tray and grab myself a melon scoop from the utensil drawer, all the while he’s crying and moaning about his chopped off friend.
I lift up the cock and insert the melon scoop in at the opening then begin to pull out any bits of loose flesh that I find inside, just like carving out a pumpkin. With each scoop, I manage to scrape out a hollow cavern that should fit the rolling pin inside if I stretch the skin enough.
Nothing goes to waste in my kitchen; Christ, there’s starving children in the world and what kind of human would I be if I were to throw away precious ingredients?
So, with the remnants of his dick flesh, I scoop them into a clean jar and place them into the fridge, alongside many others just the same.
I give my hands a quick wipe onto my apron then head back over to the table where it seems that Chris is now taking a quick snooze. His eyes roll around under his eyelids, the thin skin undulating. At least he’s still alive, for now anyway.
But this simply won’t do.
Irritation prickles at the base of my neck. Now is not the time for sleeping so I grab the rolling pin, along with Chris’s dick-skin, and begin to roll it over the end of the rolling pin like a fleshy condom. The flesh grows taut the further I roll it down but your girl ain’t no quitter.
I dig my nails into the curled up end of the dick for purchase then drag it down the smooth wood, and just so it doesn’t ping off and fly around the room like a balloon, I quickly grab an elastic band from my ‘incase I might need it’ drawer and wrap it around the base to secure it in place.
Well would you look at that? I’ve made my very own flesh wand. I knew there was a reason I enjoyed art at school and now it’s time to surprise Chris with my creation.
I’m not going to wake him up gently, oh no. I’m going to make this fucking hurt.
Walking around the table, I stop at the end where his feet are then smear the tip of my dick-stick through the puddle of blood that’s settled underneath him–- getting it nice and slick, ready for entrance.
And you’ll never guess where it’s going? I bet you guessed it didn’t you, you clever girl. Right up his ass!
Ding ding ding! We have a winner!
Gripping the rolling pin with both hands, I line the tip up with Chris’s fuzzy asshole. “Wakey wakey, pookie!” I sing-song, causing him to jump at the sound of my overly excited voice.
“Huh? Wha.. what’s happening?” He murmurs, clearly confused about what the hell is going on but don’t worry, I’ll explain everything to him.
“Well pookie, there’s a special delivery at your back door but don’t worry, I’ll open it for you!”
His eyes flick down to meet mine, and I’m pretty sure the realisation hits him like a wrecking ball.
“No, no.. no please.. pl–”
“Open wide!” I tease with glee, then ram the dick-sheathed rolling pin inside of him. The monster before me screams, the shrilling sound echoing around the room. He begs and pleads for me to stop but I don’t. Why should I?
Flesh tears with every thrust, forcing chunks of blood and excrement to seep out his ruptured anus. This is probably the rankiest thing I’ve ever done I have to admit, but can you blame me?
Beads of sweat begin to gather on my brows as I continue to fuck Chris with his own dick, the muscles in my arms aching with every push but I continue on, all while listening to the sweet sounds of him pleading with me.
He wails in agony as I force myself through every ring of muscle until I feel something pop, like a piece of bubble gum that’s been filled with too much air.
Hm, pretty sure I can feel his intestines.
As soon as my hands meet the bottom of his ass cheeks, the screaming subsides. Silence closes in around me except for the sound of my own beating heart, it throbs in and out of my ears. I let go of the rolling pin then step back to collect myself.
There’s blood everywhere. All over the table, all over Chris.. all over me.
I still have so much to do and the last thing I want to be doing is cleaning up this mess, but there is someone I can contact who deals in shit like this, for the right price of course.
I’ve used the guy a couple of times before when I’ve been left with an absolute bomb of a mess to clean up, so I know I can trust him.
With my mind made up, I get to work on dismembering Chris. Using up all his parts to restock my pantry for the next date that arrives, then I give my hands a quick wash and head into the living room to grab my burner phone.
“Cherry?” The older voice that I recognise to be Albert answers the phone after the first ring.
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m looking for a clean up?”
Albert chuckles down the phone, then I hear him mutter to someone in the background before he speaks to me. “We haven’t heard from you in a while, how big are we talking?”
I chew on my bottom lip, seeing the image of my basement in my mind. “Pretty big.”
“Alrighty, give us an hour and we’ll be there.”
“Perfect, see you then.” I say, then end the call.
I suppose I better shower before they arrive.