Help

Nobody

"Stupid bitch!." ,I roar, "I leave you alone for more than 5 minutes and you try to fucking kill yourself!..Wake up! " violently, I begin tearing her pants of her pulseless neck. I desperately begin hammering at her chest, hitting harder and harder everytime. Suddenly she let's out a sharp and sudden gasp. She's alive. Who the hell does she think she is? She has the audacity to make me rush down and save her?
This is unacceptable. I gave her shelter and this is how she repays me? Violently I strike out at her as her body goes limp once more, followed by slow,deep breaths.

I begin dragging her body across the cold floor, the dust begins to coat her naked body like a suit of dirt. Down the stairs we go, into the place which will be her new chambers. It's been a while since I've been here. The last time I was here was 7 - no, 8 years ago. I remember it clearly. My father tying me up against the wall, beating me within an inch of my life, forcing me to crap on the floor and  then letting me recover only to do it again the next day. Those were dark times. It fills me with sadness and an uncontrollable rage being back here. It still smells of off milk and sewage piss. Entering the room completely I'm greeted by a familiar sight, there, on the floor is the unmistakable sight of Shit.

I slowly chain her to the handles on the wall. Her arms are strained and her feet barely dangle across the floor. Her nipples harden and her body shivers before it relaxes once more. I bend down and pick up the muzzle my father placed on me to stop me from making noise and force it across her face. As I begin to exit the room she begins to move, like a women possesed  she desperately tries to escape her shackles as a wave of tears run down her eyes. I say,"It serves you right." Then proceed to close the door behind me.

I make my way to her previous room and bury myself in her remaining clothing. I lay enveloped by her overwhelming scent and try to conjure up feelings of joy. I should feel happy, satisfied or at least a little less alone. It's all  her fault. Anger and sorrow begin to form a concoction of negative emotions within me. She will pay. Slowly, I rise and walk towards my bedroom. With a newfound sense of determination, every step I  take is filled with purpose. My breathing steadies and my heart rate slows. This is how it begins.

I stand in my bedroom door for a while before stepping in and opening the wardrobe. From the coat hangers, my chains dangle beside my whips. My mask lays on the cupboard  floor. It's just like I remember.  It covers only my nose and mouth. It's shape, colour and design make it look like the opening of a woman encircled by teeth. I put it on as I remove my clothes and pick up one of my whips.
Once I'm ready, fully exposed,mask on and whip in hand; I make my way down the stairs to her room. She sees me through the doorway and begins violently thrash about as an onslaught of tears runs down her cheeks.
It's time to teach this old dog new tricks. I crack my whip and aim it just where her thigh touches her hip. She tries to scream but the muzzle causes it to sound like a whimper. I hit the same spot again, and again and again. Blood begins to trickle down her hip and into her opening.
"lesson number one," I tell her , " you obey me."