The Hand that Feeds

by K.M. Mixon

“Lies get people killed, stupid girl,” he grumbles as he leans closer and sniffs my hair.

“On your fucking knees, stupid girl.” When he shoves me downward, I don’t fight it. I tell myself it’s because my legs are shaky and I need to sit, but I know that’s only half of it.

“Stupid little whore. Look at you, letting a madman paint you.” His words sink to the bottom of my very soul, and a tear slips out of my eye.

“If you put them in your mouth and crawl them over to me, I’ll take them,”

There’s no other way around it, I’m going to have to fill my mouth with water and spit it into his mouth, rather than deal with the bitter taste the meds left on my tongue to nudge it with my face.

“Just look at you, stupid girl. How you look on a murderer’s cock, latched onto it like it’s your pacifier,”

“I could never hurt you, stupid girl. Can’t you see that? Can’t you fucking feel it?”

“I’ll burn this city to its foundations if you touch what belongs to me,”

“Fuck, stupid girl, don’t stop. I’m going to feed you so good this morning. You’re going to leave here with a belly full of cum to start your day.”

“If I have to kill us both, you’ll be mine forever, Lyla. So don’t get any other ideas in that stupid little head of yours, do you understand me.”

“Now, you’ll remember who you belong to. And if you wander off, whoever finds you will know who to return you to.”

You’ve branded me much deeper, anyhow. Changed the fucking cells in my body without my permission. And you’ll pay for it the rest of your pitiful fucking life, Lyla Morris.”

“I knew it was in there. I knew you’d blossom for me. And all it took was a little watering. A little blood.”