Dexter's POV:
I laid on my prison cell floor. It was cold. I was cold. I missed Rowan. I eyed the mulch my captor left for me to consume, the filthy stench wafting into my nostrils made me want hurl; I cannot hurl on an empty stomach. I heard the bars of my enclosure open–I knew was was about to happen. I wearily eyed the women who was at my cell. She was old, wrinkly, and resembled a hooker. My old math teacher, Mrs. Hen–I mean, Catwomen.
My captor.
"My, my, my. Dexter, you haven't touched your food at all. You'll starve at this rate." Cat women tutted as she got on all fours and walked closer to me. She was hot for an old women, hooker looking or not, she could still bag a minor if she tried. But...I was into men, that is why she took me. She could not understand how I was not attracted to her in highschool. Now, I was forced to be in her own version of conversion camp. Sick and Twisted.
"I'm not hungry." I lied as she streched out her body exactly like a cat would. She wasas vile as a feline, as angry as a cyst. She was, Catwomen.
She tilted her head, "Not hungry? My, Dexter, I don't believe that for a second." Catwomen circled around me like I was her prey.
"...well, maybe I am a bit hungry."
She nodded as she wipped out her calculator, "I assumed so. C'mon now, we need to start your lessons straight away."
I lowered my head as she led me out with my chain attached to my toes. I will be free one day. till then, I'll picture my beloveded in my head to soothe the pain.
