try begging
The woman whispers to another man the love she never whispered to him, and his child calls another man "daddy." The woman and the child both laugh happily in the arms of another man, not him. The moment I imagined it, my eyes went dark and my breathing became ragged.
The time has come.
Tonight, too, the dog, starving to death in the woman's indifference, headed to the bathroom. After pouring bitter medicine into its mouth, it returned, turned off the light, and lay down on the bed. Tonight, too, it left the woman's seat empty.
Soon he began to feel dizzy as if he was even more drunk, and then he began to feel an indescribable intoxication. In a false happiness, Leon thought back to the last moments he had spent with Grace in this bed.
"Harder, faster."
"Are you okay?"
"Do it, please."
My last love affair with that woman was like child's play. No matter how much I think about it, it's so trivial, but no matter how much I chew on it, it doesn't go away.
Leon's favorite moment to ponder was set.
Laugh. Grace laughs.
A woman he thought would never smile again smiled at him because she liked him. Even if it was a lie.
She smiled lovingly enough to make his heart pound. Then she reached out to him. When he showed her his face, she cupped his cheek and her eyes sparkled. It was probably the first time since they met again that there was no hatred, no contempt, not even a hint of regret in her eyes.
Leon wanted to be forever immersed in that turquoise sea overflowing with pure love.
"Leon."
He smiled and called his name as if they were just a couple. Now that he didn't have a gag in his mouth, Leon called his name confidently.
"...Grace."
But the voice I heard was not dignified, but rather shabby and miserable. At the end of his short ecstasy, when he was about to become unhappy again, he recalled other moments when he had been happy.
He turned his head to Grace's seat. In the bluish dawn light, the woman was fast asleep, her arms wrapped around his neck. Her face was peaceful, as if she had no idea what was going to happen that day.
At that moment, they seemed like an ordinary couple.
How did Grace's hair feel? He felt the air as if stroking her sleeping face and stomach, mumbling words he couldn't say out loud at the time.
"don't go...."
No, don't send me. I shouldn't have sent you.
In that way, happy memories tend to turn into sad nightmares. His gaze, which had been staring at the motionless apparition of Grace, suddenly turned to the window beyond. The bars that had been put up to imprison the woman were still there.
In the end, it was he who was trapped. Leon Winston was a life sentencer who had to live indefinitely trapped in his past with Grace Riddle.
And so, the 1,053rd day of imprisonment passed by without any incident.
º º º
The sound of chains rattling echoed through the torture chamber.
"Ah, ahh!"
The man whispered as he nibbled on her ear while she was forced to orgasm with her limbs tied up.
"Bella, did you know that some men masturbate with socks?"
"Haa, could you please wear socks too?"
But did that man have anything like that? During my time as a maid, I never saw anything like that in Winston's bedroom or bathroom. Of course, my hunch that there would be no such disgusting socks was right.
"I'm writing it now."
As he said that, he shook his waist, which had been paused for a moment. His thick penis rubbed the semen-soaked inner walls roughly. That is why the man called Grace a masturbation sock.
"ha...."
The man suddenly pulled out his penis roughly, making a popping sound, then took out a hand mirror from the nightstand and held it up to her, shining it between her legs.
"Can't anyone see that I wrote it roughly? Look carefully. You were trying to give the thing I wrote to your fiancé."
The hole opened and closed on its own, as if breathing, and semen and love juice flowed out.
"Bella, nobody wants someone else's used socks."
Grace gritted her teeth and looked up to meet the man's eyes.
"Nobody wants a carrot that has been used by someone else."
You're just a carrot for my self-defense. When I insulted him like that, he must have laughed as if he found it funny.
But why does your face look so pitiful now?
"Just what you want."
don't
"Grace, just give me one chance."
Shut up! When I first tried to escape and got caught, you said exactly what I said back then! Act like a lust-crazed monster until the very end!
I woke up from a dream where I was screaming like a crazy woman. When I woke up, I was shocked to find that the area between my legs was wet. It was even more shocking that the area around my eyes was wet.
"Fuck...."
Grace sat up, muttering a curse under her breath. She covered Ellie, who had been sleeping with the blanket all night, and quietly headed to the bathroom.
The sound of water echoed off the bathroom walls, and soon a muffled groan followed.
"Ha, hmph... ."
Grace sat in the bathtub with her legs wide open and rubbed the space between her legs with her hands. Her face was flushed, but her expression was closer to that of someone possessed by evil. The way she stroked her body was also extremely rough, and seemed to be soothing her revulsion rather than her lust.
"Sigh, really...."
Rather than continue to be haunted by dreams of that man because of my fucking sexual desire, I decided to try to stop it by relieving it with my own hands.
"it's crazy...."
If I could experience the last love affair again in my dream, I would at least understand a little.
"Why of all people... Really, oh no, crazy, uh. Sigh."
The moment she flicked her finger around the circle, the pleasure surged and as she reached her climax, Grace quickly covered her mouth. The door was locked, but Ellie, who was a sensitive sleeper, might wake up.
"ha...."
As the pleasure ebbed away like the tide, Grace leaned her head against the edge of the bathtub and let out a long sigh. When she actually did it, it didn't feel as relieved as she had thought.
Something was missing.
The moment I thought that, the words the man said in my dream this morning repeated in my head.
"It has always been my job to fill your empty body."
Shut up. No matter how lonely I feel, I won't go to you.
Grace again lowered her hand between my legs, this time fingering my vagina, which was already wet from the dream.
"Ha, I really, ugh, am I crazy?"
I used to think like that when I was locked in the torture chamber. Since I can't avoid it, I'll just enjoy the love affair with the demon that imprisoned me for now and let my future self face the storm of guilt that will come later.
But when that future arrived, what came rushing in was not guilt, but a storm called arousal.
Now that I think about it, I used to have that kind of question.
Who the hell was I supposed to feel guilty towards?
Grace is not a sinner. The sinner is separate, and the guilt is his.
So it's understandable that I don't feel guilty when I look back on that time, but I don't feel sexual desire at all. And I lusted after that man.
"I, haa, really have a comfortable life... ."
Maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing to treat a man who was so huge and strong to me as a worthless carrot for self-defense. My memories would become dull.
"On the topic of carrots, haha... ."
Looking back, the dream I had a while ago seemed funny. You treated me like a sock. Now, I've lost my favorite sock and I'm holding onto it and crying every night?
Grace, who had been laughing, soon let out an annoyed sigh and pulled the finger stuck between her legs.
This isn't the feeling.
"Why? Do you think I'd miss my stuff? Stuff it so I could poke a lonely hole in it every night?"
"Yeah. I'll miss this, but...."
The words that she would miss that man's things were just a provocation, but now she had to admit that they had become true.
I really should have cut it off.
I burst out laughing at the crazy thought.
"I won't miss you."
But the moment the man's expression flashed before my eyes at the words that followed, the laughter stopped.
Ellie had already pulled the blanket over her again. Grace lay down next to her daughter and pulled the blanket over her, sighing inwardly.
'Ellie, I think Mommy is crazy. Oh my god... why do you look so much like that guy... .'
I closed my eyes tightly so that I couldn't see Ellie's face, but I couldn't fall asleep. In my pitch-black vision, I kept thinking about what happened at the hotel that evening.
To be exact, the gaze of the man in my imagination did not leave my mind.
If there had been anger or desire in her eyes, Grace might have slept with Norman in rebellion and revenge. But why did she have those eyes at Abington Beach when I called her a dirty pig?
No. Why did I remember those eyes?
Grace asked her imaginary man.
Leon Winston, what do I think of you?
It was a question that needed to be asked of me.