"Get in here bitch," Lance said from the other room. I could hear aggression in his voice. I walked into the kitchen and saw him holding a spoon.
I had always noticed a certain attitude he had towards spoons. Whenever we would eat out he would glare at the spoon. I never thought much of it.
Since we moved in with each other I figured we needed silverware. I went out and bought a huge pack of spoons, one of which was grasped firmly in Lance's hand.
"What the fuck is this?" He sounded angry and violent.
"It's just a spoon. We need something to eat soup with." I responded my hands sweating. He was making me nervous.
Of course I had bought forks and knives also, because no one eats with just a spoon. Lance picked one of the knives off the counter and pointed it at me.
"These spoons don't belong here. I'll show you where they belong." and with that he drove the knife into my leg.
I screamed in agony. While I was crippled, I felt a sharp pang on the back of my head and I collapsed to the floor.
When I awoke I was in a daze and didn't understand where I was at first. I was strapped to the dining room table. The table was cold against my bare skin. I looked around for Lance and spotted him by the sink next to a pile of spoons. I had a bad feeling about this.
He turned around and growled,"Oh looks who's woken up."
"Lance, what the fuck untie me." I was terrified. What did he have planned.
He walked over with a handful of spoons. He traced one spoon from my cheek to my thigh.
Calmly he said, "We won't be buying anymore spoons. And I don't think you'll be seeing anything anytime soon either."
He took the spoon and pushed it underneath my eyeball, slowly letting the pressure build. It didn't hurt at first until he started pushing up under my eyeball. He slowly added to the pain growing until he slammed the spoon down tearing my eye from its socket. I screamed in agony and pulled at the restraints.
"Shut up, I know you can take more." he slapped me.
"Lance why are you doing this? Stop!" I yelled.
"You haven't seen anything yet."
He took the handle of the spoon and drove it into my other eye and left it sticking out of the eye. I wailed and was slapped again.
"We need to end that wretched screaming," he shoved a spoon down my throat. One after the other. I couldn't breathe. And I couldn't see.
"There how's that?"
I couldn't respond and was slowly suffocating.
"Answer me bitch!" Lance yelled. I tried to make a sound and only manage a squeak and a nod.
"Good. Now to show you where these spoons belong."
He cut my restraints and turned me over. I was to weak to fight him and even if I had the strength I couldn't see. I had an idea of where this was heading. He inserted a spoon into my asshole and I cringed. He fit the rest of the pack into my ass. I was about to lose consciousness, from pain and oxygen loss, when the worst part of the torture came. I heard a kitchen drawer open and footsteps as Lance approached me. He began making small cuts along my dick. Then began slowly sawing it off. If I could still scream, I swear everyone who ever lived and ever will would've heard me.
"Now my dear Banyan, don't bring spoons home again."
I knew there wouldn't be a next time. I slipped unconscious for the last time and the last thing I heard was Lance laughing.
