Chapter 16 Brynne
“Come on,” I huff with annoyance as I roll the fleshy penis like a tube of toothpaste.
White globs of day old cum slip out the tip into the melted cheese.
To get the mixture right for my warming mac and cheese, you obviously need various types of cheeses.
Cheddar being my favourite, but to get that salty flavour. Dead man’s baby sauce is perfect.
My last date absolutely loved it and now he gets to be a part of it. Don’t worry, Kincaid is well aware of my hobbies now, in fact he endorses them. Even joins in now and again but he’s on a clean up job today.
I miss him, even though he railed me into next week this morning in the shower before leaving. Our relationship has thrived like a blooming flower in the Summer, and it only continues to grow every day. He treats me exactly as I deserve, even in the bedroom.
The stainless steel pan on the stove begins to boil as the macaroni pasta swirls around in the scorching heat.
I give it a quick stir then pick up the small bowl filled with dried skin flakes, and tip it into the water.
The crusts gather on the surface and I use the wooden spoon to dissolve them in the water.
Once I’ve got them to a perfect al dente, I save a cup of the pasta water and drain the rest down the sink.
Steam rises up, creating a film of condensation on the window in front of me. I then take the drained pasta and dump it into the melted cheese sauce, then add the leftover pasta water to combine the pasta and sauce together.
Strings of cummy-cheese sticks to my spoon as I stir it altogether, creating a sloppy moist sound. I chuckle to myself at the noise. “Heard that sound before.” I say to myself with a grin.
I turn the dial down on the hob and allow the pan to simmer whilst I pull off my apron and place it onto the counter, then I quickly give my hands a wash.
Muffled grunts come from the basement below and I roll my eyes. Has this fucker not died yet?
Stepping away from the counter I make my way into the basement to find Ethan, I think his name was?
Not that I care to remember, strapped down onto the metal table.
The very same table that Kincaid made me come on.
I think we’ve managed to taint every single surface in this house. My cheeks heat at the thought.
“How the fuck are you still alive and kicking?” I snap, causing Ethan to almost jump out of his skin. His head whips to the side, eyes widening in fear as he watches me walk closer to him. He begins to shake his head frantically. “N.. no, p.. Please!”
“Ohhh, poor baby is scared,” I coo. “I bet Savannah was scared when you dragged her into the back of your car. Or when you pinned her to the seats with your fat, disgusting body.”
Ethan visibly pales at the mention of the seventeen your old girl he grabbed and raped in the back of his car, she was on the way to meet her boyfriend. Luckily I’m here to rectify that problem.
I found out that Savannah managed to get the help she needed after Ethan’s attack, but I know from personal experience that it’ll be something that will live with her forever.
Unfortunately for this round pig, he won’t make it through the next hour– thirty minutes tops because I’ll be a very unhappy bunny if I burn my mac and cheese.
Tremors shake his naked body as I round the table. Blood has already pooled underneath him from when I rammed a kitchen knife into his side, just for funsies. I was hoping he would have just bled out naturally but clearly this old dog is hard to put down.
Thick tears begin to well in his eyes and as he clamps them shut, the clear blobs roll down his temples and settle into the thick wrinkles of his face. There’s also a huge snot bubble currently blowing out of his nose, disgusting. Once I’ve done a full circle around the table, I stop at his side.
“Are you scared, Ethan?”
He nods frantically. “Ye.. yes.”
“Do you fear death?” I ask with a stern tone.
“No.. no, ma’am.”
I tilt my head to the side. “No? You don’t fear death?”
Ethan shakes his head, causing the fat jowls around his mouth to jiggle. “Should I?”
His answer makes me scoff. “Yes, because you’re trapped in here with her and in case you didn’t realise, death is a fucking woman.
” I spit. My words cause him to shake around on the table.
He’s probably hoping that if he throws himself around enough, he’ll be able to wiggle free.
But no one leaves my house alive, unless I want them too.
Blood pools underneath his mottled flesh, causing his yellow skin to flush red as he struggles against the binds that are wrapped around his wrists and ankles.
“There’s no use struggling, Ethan. You won’t be leaving here alive.
” I say with a taunting sharpness, quickly the realisation hits him like a ton of bricks.
Blood drains from his face, leaving him a ghostly shade of white.
He pries his crusty lips open to speak and I snatch them between my fingers then dig out the switchblade Kincaid gave to me as a gift, from my back pocket. My initials engraved into the handle.
So thoughtful of him.
Quickly I use the sharp blade to slice off his lips like thin strips of deli meat. They land with a soft slap onto the table and Ethan wails in pain, crimson blood spurting out of the open wound on his face. It leaks over his chin like lava from a volcano, and settles into the creases of his neck.
“Yo.. you fucking.. b.. itch!”
I tsk in disappointment. Clearly he hasn’t learnt his lesson. “C’mon, fat man. That’s not how you speak to a lady is it?”
Ethan grunts as blood continues to flow out of his lip-less mouth. “Fuck you!” He spits out with malice, “I hope.. your tainted cunt gets ripped.. apart next time you’re.. alone!”
At one point in my life that threat would have sent me spiraling but now, they’re just words. Words that I want to snatch from his vocal cords.
The blade hangs heavy in my hands, eager to slash this disgusting prick open.
“Well, I hate to break it to you buddy but someone already did that and he ended up in tiny pieces, with a rolling pin up his ass that had the skin of his dick on. I’m quite crafty you see.”
Just as Ethan attempts to throw some weak ass threat at me, I lift my hand and slash the blade across his throat.
His eyes widen and I know it’s taking a moment for his brain to catch up with what’s just happened.
He gurgles on his own blood and I waste no time in ramming my hand inside of the slit in his throat to grab at his vocal cords.
Blood splutters and sprays across my arm and face as I dig around in the warm wetness until my fingers find exactly what they’re looking for.
Something spongy, like overcooked pasta or soggy food sitting in the drain at the bottom of the sink, brushes against my fingers as I grasp his larynx and yank the squishy muscle free from his throat.
Thin strings of sinew stretch like bubblegum as I pull it free, they try to hold on for as long as possible but quickly snap under the pressure, causing a sharp slapping sound to crack against his face.
Ethan gurgles as he tries to inhale any oxygen that he can steal but it’s no use. He begins to choke on his own blood, his body flailing around on the table, fists clenching until the bones of his knuckles threaten to split the bruised skin.
“Any last words, Ethan?” I taunt with his literal voice box, dripping in my hand. Wet blobs splash all over the floor and the faint waft of cheese tingles across my nose.
My mac and cheese! It better not be burnt!
I slap Ethan’s larynx onto his face. “Fuck your last words, and I’ll be seeing you in hell if the bottom of my pan is crusty!”
Just as I’m about to turn away from the table, a cloth is pressed over my nose, forcing a sickly sour smell to smother me.
With every inhale, a blackness trickles into the corner of my vision and I feel my body getting weaker by the second, soon I’ll hit the floor but it never happens.
I feel no pain or coldness from the ground, instead a hazy, smoked filled voice seeps into my fuzzy head.
“Play dead for me, love. And don’t worry, I turned the hob off.”
Then blackness hits me.
Kincaid
Fuck, just seeing my woman ram her hand into that fuckers throat had me ready to dig a hole in the wall and fuck it, but luckily I have Brynne’s to sink into.
As soon as her body becomes a dead weight, I remove the chloroform soaked cloth from her face and shove it into the pocket of my overalls then I scoop her up into my arms and carry her up the stairs.
She’s lucky that I came home when I did, or her cum-filled mac and cheese would have been solidified to the bottom of her favourite pan, and no doubt I’d feel her wrath for it– not that I’d complain about that, she’s fucking delicious when she’s all hot and angry.
I do tell her to turn the oven off before she has her fun but all she has to say to that is, “I’m just a girl. ” Whatever the fuck that means.
With every step, her head sways against my shoulder.
Dried blood speckles her perfect skin like morbid freckles.
It’s quite the contrast to her alabaster skin, but she looks so perfect covered in it.
Even if the blood isn’t from me, I'm sure I can rectify that little problem sometime. My heavy boots cause the stairs to creak as I take her up to our bedroom, that’s right.
. our bedroom. The thought makes me grin, the fact that I get to spend every waking hour with this incredible woman.
And that she allows me to do this kind of shit to her as well is just an added bonus.
Once I reach the bedroom door, I push it open with my shoulder and gently lay her on the bed before kicking off my boots and stripping off the overalls, leaving me in a pair of black gym shorts and a t-shirt. The heat has been horrendous lately and I refuse to wear my jeans under that sweatsuit.