Insanity

1

Cackling resonated the dark room, the light bulb hanging on the chain swung from side to side, creaking.

Creak.

Creak.

The man laid sprawled on the dirty floor, mouth wide open, but knowing his jaw was no longer intact, he didn't really have a choice. His eyes, full of fear, full of terror, blood.

Pathetic fucking pussy, wasn't even able to fight back.

Crimson liquid was painted all over the ground, his clothes. Legs and arms uncomfortably twisted in different positions that pained the man who did it himself as he dully stared, grimacing at his work, his amusement had sided. 

He was insecure of his job, was he doing good? Needing constant reassurance is what he wanted.

Fear.

He needed fear. Fed off it. 

He held the arm he cut off, leaning on the chair, his shirt messed up, crinkled and dyed. Pun intended. He run a hand through his hair and snorting at the thought of that joke, ahh, sometimes, his jokes were too good to be true. 

Playing with the fingers, the metal door open. 

He holds up a middle finger, not his, at the person standing there, hiding his face, "You let me have all the fun," he says, "was this my birthday present from you?" 

He juts his lower lip out, "Noah, baby, you shouldn't have." 

Noah leaned against the door frame, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms, the muscles under his small shirt tensing.

"Fuck you, I was stuck doing some other work." He whines.

Standing up, he flings the arm on top of the lifeless body, "Send it to his wife and parents." He orders, sympathetically looking at the guy who didn't join with him.  

His loss.

Straightening his blood splattered shirt, he sighs in annoyance, the only thing that irritated him was getting dirty and then having to remove all his conquest's stains and marks from himself. 

"Your dad was calling you, said to tell you when you're done having fun Mason." Noah remembers, walking closer to the body, raising his eyes when he crouches down and picks up the detached arm and broken fingers. 

"Yeah yeah," he waves his hand, mind on what he would be getting in bed, a nice fuck. That's what he'd be getting.

A couple prostitute rubbing his chest, licking his dick, sitting on his dick, jumping on his dick, touching his dick, trailing their long nails on him, a fucking strip show in front of him. Yes, exactly what he wanted. 

Fanculo, he was already getting hard at the thought of corpi nudi pressed against him, lips kissing down, Noah better have picked out hot chicks. 

He takes off his clothes once he's in the bathroom, gazing down at his erected cock.

Mason closes his eyes, wrapping his hand around his length, turning on the cold water.

Imagining all he would do tonight, skins against his, tight and wet pussies he'd eat out.

"Fucking hell." he lets out a groan, pumping his length and thinking of all the sinful pleasures he'd be getting tonight.

He rests his head on the wall, with both his hands running up and down, soft plump lips around his hard dick, tight pussy clenching around his cock, he moans loudly, breathing heavily.