Don't you just love it when a man screams your name?


There's something about giving him what he so desperately needs and deserves.

Especially when he's all tied up.


I can tell from the sweat amongst his brow that he's never been treated this way by a woman before.

So powerless and his eyes begging for release.


But, not just yet.

I want him to scream my name just one last time.


"Say my name."

I demand, pouting my red

luscious lips at the man.

He only smirked slyly as he shook his head slowly.

It's kinda cute that he's trying to break his wrists free from the rope tied around them.


"Pretty please?"

I smile sweetly.

His resistance is driving me crazy.


Men usually don't feel obligated to do as women tell them to.

He's lucky I even allowed him to sit up and watch my little show considering his disobedience.

But I have a feeling he'll give in soon.


I lean my lips closely to his ear, my long brown curls falling against his shoulder as I whisper.

"Don't make me ask again."

I giggled.

A smile spread across his face as he raised a brow.

An expression that read,

Make me.


What an absolute tease.

It's really too bad that he doesn't remember me.


I begin swaying my body softly back and forth to the soft music playing in the background.

I can feel his icy blue gaze finding pleasure in watching my every move.

I lift the side of my skirt up teasingly pulling out my favorite toy that I brought for this special occasion.


His eyes widened in both shock and terror as fire danced in mine.

I take glances between him and the knife in my hand, my smile now devious.


"This isn't what I paid for.

This wasn't the plan!"

He stated, fearfully.


I take slow, menacing steps, my heels clicking on the tiled floor as I approach the bed he is helplessly bound to.


"Well, from my own personal experience, I learned it doesn't matter how you plan it.

Sometimes there's that greedy, selfish wolf, ready to devour that little ray of hope you cling to."

I hinted as my smile faded.


His terrified gaze turned cold.

Oh, he was definately remembering now.


"Don't do this."

He begged.


"Oh, you're begging now?"

I hissed through my wide grin.

"Ya know, I was a begger just like you once."

I began fiddling with the knife in my hand and continued.


"But, I learned at a very young age that begging gets you no where."

I stopped and stared at the knife, shaking my head as I laughed the dejected memory away, then continued.

"Your old ass should know that."


His body began shaking uncontrollably as he tried fighting the rope around his wrists.

"Whoa, wait a minute.

You paid for me to use rope and now you don't want to use it?

Where's the fun in that?"

I teased as I gripped the knife tightly in my hand, driving the sharpened blade through his thigh.

His scream music to my ears.

I pull out the knife swiftly.


"PLEASE!"

He shouted as tears ran down his wrinkled cheeks.

"See, now that is a lot better.

Manners are so important!

Now, let's try that

one more time."

I grinned with pleasure.

His pained eyes stared into mine with confusion.


"Please what?"


I asked, crossing my arms as I tapped my foot on the floor impatiently waiting for his response.


"Please, let me go!"

He pleaded helplessly.

"Well, why didn't you say so, ya silly goose!?"


I giggled as I edged closer to him.

His eyes gleamed with hope.


"Okay, but you have to promise not to tell anyone what happened here tonight?"

I raised my eyebrows at him like a concerned parent.


"I-I promise!"

He cried out in pain.

I leaned in, reaching my hands over towards the rope, but then I paused and stood myself back up.


"Ya know, I remember making a promise like that once."

I giggled as I gripped the knife tighter than before.

"But, I didn't keep it."


I furrowed my eyebrows as I remembered.

"I guess some secrets are best said aloud, but this one dies with us."


I glared into his pleading blue eyes as I pressed the knife to his neck harshly.

"Oh, and by the way,

you forgot to say my name."

I added as I slashed the knife quickly across his throat, blood spilling down his chest.


I flicked the blood off of my knife as I admired my struggling art work.

It only took a minute to turn into a complete masterpiece.


Think I'll leave this one here.

His mangled body will serve a good reminder to the other scouting pigs that my slaughter house is still open for business.