Control Freak ✔️

12 i'm mad at you

When they got inside, she shimmied out of her boots and sauntered to the couch. Caleb remained planted to the doormat, watching her flip her legs up and cross them.

"Come sit with me," she purred. Caleb did as he was told, nervously easing down beside her. "Oh, where are my manners?" she blurted. "Care for a drink?"

"Uh, I guess I'll have something if you're having something."

"I'm having something," she cooed. She jumped up and skipped to the kitchen. Caleb could hear her rummaging through cabinets over the sound of his heart wildly pounding in his chest. He couldn't figure out what to do with his hands. Should I put them together in my lap? No, this isn't an intervention. What about folded? She's gonna think something's wrong. Behind my head? Too relaxed. On my hips? Really, who sits like that? Oh, how about: one hand on chin, the other on elbow? Is this a fucking yearbook photo? Put your fucking hands down.

"Here we are," she sang, returning with two glasses of red wine. "Did I surprise you?" He hadn't quite figured out what to do with his hands yet so she had caught him in this weird spot of having his hands above his shoulders with palms facing her.

"Nope," he mumbled, shaking his head. She took a sip of hers before setting it down on the coffee table and throwing her legs across his lap.

"Is this, uh, alcoholic?"

"You're so cute. Of course. It's wine, duh!"

As she rubbed her legs up against his thighs and torso, her breasts heaved with her arching back. His fingers began to tremble, and his dick swelled to the point that he squirmed with embarrassment hoping she wouldn't notice.

"Ivy," he stammered, wincing as he turned away. Slowly, he dared to peek again. This time, he was bold enough to look her in the face, as she slyly bit the side of her lower lip, parting her jeans like a supple gateway. "Is this really happening?" he mouthed audibly, though it was supposed to be a private thought. He watched as she nodded a definitive "yes."

"I wanted to do this for you," she whined. "I think we're ready." Her feet were roaming around and her toes were tickling his thigh. He came down on top of her. He looked at her, taking her hand in his. His eyes were a genuine brown that made her sink into his chest as he took her in his hands. He gently played with her hair. She lifted her pretty eyes up at him. Her sunny eyes were disarmingly beautiful, they peered into his as if they were yearning. The wisps of air from his nose made her blush and close her eyes as she waited with lips slightly parted. Their noses gently touched, and he closed her mouth with his lips. She felt herself melting in his arms as she moved her lips against his. Finally, she pulled away from him, playfully shoving him off as she beamed a pearly white smile.

He fought his way back to her, kissing her neck as she giggled.

"Caleb, I'm so happy to be your girlfriend," she whispered. She gazed into his eyes. Her fingers began crawling up his back underneath his shirt.

"Me too, Ivy, I'm so happy," he whispered. She beamed a radiant smile.

"I think I'm ready to do something I've never done with anyone," she cooed. To his vexation, she slid from under him and scampered to the other side of the room.

"What?" he murmured.

"Just a second, let me get a little more comfortable!"

"Should I, I don't know, come with you, or—"

"No, stay there!" He heard her walk-in closet door close. He sat there for a moment, at a loss about what had just happened. Quickly, he jumped to the floor and positioned himself in a plank, furiously cranking out half-extended push-ups until his arms gave out. He thought it best that his chest and arms at least look a little built, even if he had to fake it. He collapsed in a wheezing pout after about fourteen and a half. So he laid there, with his cheek to the ground.

Squeak...squeak...squeak. He could hear something as he got close to the floorboards. It was the pipes, he presumed. Perhaps, an opossum had found its way in to avoid the cold. Caleb pressed his ear firmly against the ground, so he could hear the hum of the vacant space below. The intermittent squeaks came with a more constant murmuring, and shuddering, windy breaths. Caleb shot to his feet. His eyes frantically searched the room for the bathroom entrance. He cranked the doorknob and pulled it, the sound of which elicited a primal noise. He turned on the light, and his knees shook more violently with every trembling step he took.

His socks were wet. He rubbed his eyes, hoping they were just maladjusted to the light. His pupils could not run from what he saw. Nor could he wipe the image clean, for their eyes had locked. Darting blue eyes looked up and seized Caleb. He struggled to spill words out of his broken jaw smeared purple and black. He was beaten down to the muscle, red all over, hanging from a double meathook by his shoulder blades like a slaughtered calf. His face was mutilated.

He was trembling as he tried to speak. "Ca-ca-caleb," he stammered. "Caleb."

"H-how do you know me?"

"It's Max," he whimpered. "You can't even recognize me."

"Max," he muttered to himself. "Max! How did this happen?"

"I'm sorry." He was weeping. "I'm so, so sorry." Max wailed in agony. There was blood smeared all across the floor. His frightened black pupils dug a hole through Caleb as his body convulsed. He tried to move his mouth again, but all that escaped were stammers. His body sank on the hook. But his eyes remained targeted on something and it wasn't Caleb.

"I'm mad at you, Caleb."