Wings of a Hummingbird

Chapter Two

When I woke up hours later, I remember feeling disoriented and confused. I realized the drink had been laced with some kind of sedative.

I smiled at him as he stared down at my 5' 3" body, staring with those same hypnotic brown eyes, that held flecks of gold swimming inside them. I giggled for no apparent reason, mostly out of nervousness, not knowing what else to do or say. Not until my intelligent eyes took in a room which defied any degenerates guide to torture did terror fill my fluttering heart. Blood caked  stains and rust covered chains on the wall, superimposed with feces, tears, and water seepage that reminded me of a modern day Tower of London. I saw blown up pictures, encased in gilded frames, depicting acts of twisted masochism as if they were art. Jars full of random body parts were littered about the room, like those found in a mad scientists lab, even the severed head of a man -a man he called Lloyd. Lloyd look at me, as well, but with an evil grin, which reminded me of the Joker from Batman, but with a Fu Manchu mustache. Its odd, the obscure thoughts that enter a persons mind when they're about to die.

                                 ***

I wonder now why I never noticed my nudity until his pants came off and he stood in front of me. Maybe it didn't seem important until that specific moment? But again, I'm ashamed to say, other than in pictures, I've never seen a man naked before. So, my nudity took a distant second place in that regard. His manscaped body, free of hair, held a muscular physique, one that defied the laws of gravity for a man past 40. Beads of sweat speckled his brow, dampening his short brown hair. I offered no verbal protest when he climbed on top of me – and mated me. He gazed into my eyes, kissed never kissed lips. Should I reciprocate? So far, other than drugging me, he had yet to harm me. Yes, I consider drugging someone a violation, but if asked while at my house I wouldn't have warded off his advances.

One needs to get it out-of-the-way – the whole chastity thing, I mean. Though inexperienced, I kissed him back, surprised to hear a moan escape his lips. A moan that propelled him to enter-me. I could feel the tear inside as a sharp pain was thrust in—his spear. Momentarily satiated, he reclined with me, as if we were a loving couple. Awkward, but according to him, I resembled a porcelain doll: exquisite and timeless...

We lay this way for a while – while I'm preyed upon and fawned over. And his free hand – the one not touching me, held a straight razor in the air...A silent threat. It appeared as though it had never been used, but I suppose it could've gone through a hearty cleaning.

Silent prayers went through my mind, as I said goodbye to people who probably wouldn't care to remember my name. As the honed edge neared me, the hand that held it, quivered. His heart pulsating visually against pectoral muscles. "I love you", departed lips bruised from brushing against mine – brushing as a painter would a canvas. Overwhelmed with emotion, he stood up and began to scream at no one.