For months all I heard was a creepy voice on the other side of the phone saying, “I’m watching you Cassandra.” I honestly thought it was one of my former masters out to harass and scare me. I was freaked out some, but really thought it was a sick prank. I thought that until I came home from a party one night, walked into my bedroom and felt a hand go around my mouth. The way he said, “I have been waiting for you Cassandra,” was familiar. Eerily familiar. I peed in my panties because I knew it was my stalker. I didn’t recognize him, however. He put his hands around my throat in an attempt to strangle me. I pleaded, tried to scream to no avail. As he did his best to crush my windpipe with his bare hands he looked me square in the eyes and said, “The fun is only begun.” He tossed me to the bed by my throat. As I was gasping for air, he tied my hands and feet to the bed. He straddled my chest with a knife. When I screamed bloody murder, he punched me in the face so hard, teeth flew out of my mouth. I didn’t get any second chances. He plunged the knife in my stomach and sliced me open like a cadaver. I felt immense pain, then a cold nothiness that scared me. I was dying. I knew it. Too much blood was spilling from my body. My attacker put his hands inside me so he could play with my internal organs. He scooped out my insides and plopped them on my chest. He forced my head up so I could see the horror of my intestines wrapped around my tits like a macabre piece of art. Last thing I heard was his sinister laugh as he started to fuck me.
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