He was being too sweet and I knew it. He allowed me to bathe for an hour and light scented candles and relax my body. He sent in a masseuse to rub me down and let me have hours alone in the dressing room to do my hair and makeup. He told me to look my most beautiful. I know sometimes he likes to use the video camera, but he still never cared what I looked like or how I felt. I had long wondered why he had kept me so long and this seemed like such a ritual I wondered if this would be my last night here.
I know he watches snuff porn late at night. I can hear the screams from the television upstairs from my cage in the basement. Maybe he just wanted me to look different for Halloween? My mind was racing, but once the massage was done I began to relax. I couldn’t let the terrifying thoughts I was having keep entering my mind or I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the pain he was surely going to inflict on me tonight. I found a silk gown waiting for me on the bed, and I put it on. It was see-through and the softest thing I had felt against my skin in months.
He came in the room and stared. No video camera and no audience tonight. It was just him and I. He offered me champagne and I drank it politely. My head started spinning almost immediately and I knew there was something in it. He took me gently and laid me back on the bed. He pulled off the silk gown and began running his rough hands over my soft skin. He fucked me so gently it was almost as if he were making love to me. But I knew it had to be the drugs – he was a monster and incapable of that. I had seen the darkness in his eyes the first time we met.
He fucked my mouth, my tits, my pussy and my ass. He kept telling me how beautiful I was and then he said something that sent chills all through me – “I am going to miss you, Stephanie, you are my favorite little pain whore.”. My body felt so good I didn’t even want to fight it. He guided me back into the bathroom and ran some more warm bath water. He helped me climb in, I was like a baby lamb barely able to stand. I sank down into the warm water and my head fell back. I saw the blade in his hand and I knew tonight was the night. I was to be sacrificed so that another could take my place in his home. I felt the blade go deep in my throat and I began choking. It seemed like a dream but it wasn’t. The bath water turned red and then I watched as he stood up and then pissed all over my dying body. It felt warm against my cold skin and somehow I was grateful to have been his favorite.
Dream catchers have always fascinated me. Perhaps because of the connection to the spirit world that they are supposed to hold. That and what and how they are made if they are authentic. A dream catcher is supposed to be placed over where you sleep, good dreams flow through the center and bad ones are trapped in the web surrounding the center and destroyed by the morning light. The hoop is made of willow and the web is made of sinew, which is actually taken from animals and made of the fibrous tissue that connect muscle to bone. Eventually the willow dries and the tension of the sinew will break the hoop. I want to make reverse dream catchers. I want the nightmares to flow through the center and the good dreams to be trapped in the web. So I have the brilliant idea to change the materials I use to make the dream catcher. I am constructing them out of the body parts of my victims and giving them to all the brats at the playground instructing them to hang them over their beds. Next week I will return to the playground and see if my evil plan worked. Just the idea that the little fuckers have pieces of dead bodies hanging over their beds is a rush in itself.
