Pulling out my gadgets, I carefully install the listening devices in her bedroom and living room.

These are tools Lucio uses for his frenemies, and they’re hardly detected even by professionals.

I place one in the lamp and the other behind the mirror.

Once I’m done, I stare at my image. I look normal, so fucking normal, it’s uncanny.

Actually, I’m above normal, with looks that always got me anywhere I wanted with women.

But aren’t the normal ones the scariest?

If my little Petal had better self-preservation, she would’ve noticed that. But even if she did, would anything change? If she resisted me at first, would all of this have ended?

No, and no.

It would’ve only been uglier for her. I might be quiet, but I’m a fucking animal when I put my sights on something.

It’s never over until the prey is under my teeth, ripped to pieces.

And piece by piece, I collect them back together again.

Besides, I’m not entirely sure my little Petal didn’t sniff the darkness inside me. At times, when I’m fucking her, pulling her by the hair and using her body, she’d be dripping wet, staring at me with those stormy eyes like all this is otherworldly.

She’s an animal, too, in some way. She’s just either in denial about it or hides it so much better than everyone else.

Now, I need to know what she talks about or watches when she’s alone. If I know her better, I’ll fuck her over more efficiently.

All predators sample their prey before pouncing.

I sit on her bed and retrieve her laptop. She doesn’t use it often, but when she does, it’s in a dark room and she’d disappear with it under the covers.

She doesn’t do that with her books or Netflix, so there must be something here.

It takes me two tries to get the passcode. Her birthday was a miss, she’s not that predictable after all, but it’s her oldest cat’s name, Mrs. Hudson, the lazy one who’s always sleeping unless it’s time for food. My little Petal is predictable after all.

Her wallpaper is a picture of her two cats.

This fucking cat lady is incorrigible.

I go through her browsing history. Facebook, the hospital website, tons of articles and forums about cat care and cat owners sharing expertise, and some forums about Netflix shows.

It’s not until I reach the fifth page that my fingers stop at the cursor.

My, my.

I click on the link and it takes me straight to a porn site, and not any porn site —a paid one.

My little Petal can be unpredictable after all.

I know she owns a vibrator, but during the time I watched her, she barely masturbated if at all. If she did, she must’ve done it under the sheets and didn’t make a show of it.

The fact she’s paying a subscription to an edgy porn site is... interesting.

I go to her account and chuckle to myself when I see her username.

Mr. Bingley.

I stare at the cat who’s now sitting beside me. “You’re into some porn, boy?”

He huffs as he rests his paws in a sleeping position.

I go through her history and the titles she watched stop me in my tracks.

Being attacked, hard sex.

Rough with an attacker.

A woman enjoying rough.

Woman likes being degraded in a merciless way.

Woman enjoys being raped by attacker.

Choked and fucked.

Passionate rough sex.

Spanked and fucked.

Held down and fucked.

Tied down, choked, and fucked.

Woman used and enjoys it.

* * *

Those are the ones she favored and watched more than ten times. The same clip more than ten times.

I see the pattern without even having to go on.

My cock strains, but it’s not because of the pictures. I don’t even have interest in opening those videos, I don’t have to.

I knew my little Petal had some darker inkling; I’ve seen the storm in her eyes and felt the tremor in her body.

However, I didn’t think it went this deep or dark.

No wonder she doesn’t masturbate. No masturbation will bring her what she craves.

Being used, abused, held down and fucked until she no longer takes it.

Oh, and enjoying it.

Her toy can’t bring her that, but I can.

A smirk tugs on my lips as I exit the site, delete the recent history and close the laptop.

Here I was thinking I should hold back with her. She doesn’t need that, she needs something more potent and out of control.

After all, we’re both fucking animals, in one way or another.

When she returns tonight, a surprise will be waiting for her.

My little Petal won’t only have her every fantasy come true, but she’ll also develop new fantasies she never thought were possible.

18

Georgina

Coming home from work, I have a bad premonition of what's waiting on the other side of my door before I even unlock it.

As soon as I'm inside the apartment, I realize I was right.

Before I left for work, I'd replied to some emails on my laptop, and I left it on my desk where the cats couldn't get to it. But now, the laptop is on my coffee table in the living room, and Mr. Bingley's sitting on it.

I know for a fact I didn't leave it there, and my lips form a thin line as I double-lock the door after entering. He's been in here. I just know it.

It's late, and I'm exhausted. I don't want to worry about Jasper right now, and I'm in a delirious state as I lock all the doors and double-check to make sure all the windows are closed. Forcing myself not to think about Jasper, I feed and play with the cats before dragging myself into the bathroom.

I take a long, scalding hot shower and slip under the covers of my bed naked. The sheets feel silky soft against my skin, and I relish the feeling of them against my tired body. I don't allow myself to think about Jas at all. Instead, I focus on getting comfortable and letting my weariness take over.

Still, it takes me an hour of tossing and turning to finally fall into a dreamless sleep.

I don't know what wakes me up first, but when my eyes open, I become acutely aware of two things.

One, I can't move.

Two, there's someone else in my room.

I open my mouth to scream, but before a sound can escape my lips, a hand stuffs something in my mouth. It's silky and soft and lacy, and with horror, I realize they're my panties, scrunched up into a ball.

All of a sudden, I'm fully awake, my heart hammering in my chest as I look up at my hands. They're handcuffed to my bedposts by the wrists, and I can barely move them. I let out a cry.

The room is enveloped in semi-darkness, the only light coming from the streetlights outside. I already know this has something to do with Jas – it has his signature written all over it, and I had no doubt he'd try to fuck with my head again after our last disastrous encounter.

A dark figure appears before me. I recognize it as him from his black hoodie that is once again pulled over his head. He's holding something, and all I see is the glint of a smile as he walks up to me, raising his hand.

I shrink back, getting ready to scream, but my lips wrap around a ball instead.

Jas forces a ball gag into my mouth, tightening the buckle behind my head before I can utter a sound. My heart is pounding, waves of adrenaline rushing through my body. My mouth is already responding to the forced object inside it, and a dribble of saliva runs down my chin. I whimper as Jas' hand lingers on my cheek, comforting me without saying a word.