One For Sorrow

She was lounging on her sofa; the sound of classical music filled the air, giving the room an easy and negligently relaxed feel. Long titian hair hung loosely about her slender shoulders. The air was still heavy with the sweet aroma of the carbonara sauce which she had made from scratch for her dinner that evening. Picking up the glass of wine which sat on the coffee table, she swirled the small amount which was left in the bottom around a little before going to take a sip. Just as the glass touched her ruby-red lips, there was a soft knock on her front door. She let out a loud sigh at the interruption before putting the glass back down on the coffee table. Standing, she paused the music before making the short journey out to the front door and opening it wearily. When she saw who was standing on the doorstep she smiled, stepping back to let him in. “Good evening.” She smiled warmly. “What can I do for you?” “Just a few of your lovely autographs on these please.” He said, waving some manila folders about, too quickly for her to see them properly. She snatched them playfully from him with a chuckle. “Come on in, I will just go up and get my glasses.” She replied, putting the offending folders on the coffee table before disappearing upstairs and into her bedroom. As she picked up her glasses from the vanity table and put them on, knocking a small trinket box to the floor in the process. Bending down to retrieve it she caught a flutter out of the corner of the mirror. Gasping, she swiveled around and pressed her back against the smooth cold wood of her vanity table, she stared on in surprise. His hand struck her hard across the face, it was sudden, and it was without warning; his dark green eyes peered intently into hers before another blow rocked her head to the side with a snap. A lock of scruffy brown hair fell across his forehead. He blew it, moving it from his line of vision as he wanted nothing to obstruct his view, and it was indeed a beautiful sight. She had the most perfect body he had ever seen, her curves were all in the correct places and there wasn’t a piece of fat on her. She was now tied to the four corners of her bed with thick blue bailer twine. A lilac silk scarf that she had been wearing to work that day and which still had the hint of the vanilla perfume she wore, was tied tightly behind the back of her head, forming a gag that made her lips part slightly, her cheeks glistened with saliva which the gag caused due to her inability to swallow. She shivered in the cold, or was it with fear?          “It’s your own fault I have had to do this to you!” He growled, his tone laced with anger as he stared down at her. He watched her eyes, they were full of fear. How could he do this to her?!? Not him! She had trusted him!          “You have only got yourself to blame.” He told her through gritted teeth. She turned her head away to the side so she didn’t have to look at him. “This is entirely your fault and nobody else’s, so don’t even try thinking about passing the blame.”          Grabbing hold of her chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger, he pulled her face in a rough way, so that she was looking up into his eyes again. This made her flinch in pain from her split lip, the result of a punch in the face when she had fought him earlier in the night before he had managed to subdue her. A bead of blood from her lip began to slowly trail down her smooth, alabaster skin. He needed to make sure she understood what he was telling her. Make sure she knew who was in charge. Who was the “Boss” was          She tried again to turn her head away from his gaze, and out of his grasp, but he just tightened his grip on her. This forced a strangled yelp out of her. He leaned down and bit into her neck, making her gasp.          “You had better make sure you listen to me closely.” He whispered menacingly into her ear before moving away again, his voice laden with frustration and unhinged rage. It turned him on, knowing that she was so afraid of him and that he had complete control over her. The bulge in his jeans was enough evidence of this.          He glared down at her, tears were streaming down her cheeks and she was pulling at the ropes which cut deep into the skin, leaving dark, red welts. She was helpless and they both knew it. He wiped away the tears delicately with the back of his hand, causing her to flinch in anticipation of a slap. This made him grin evilly – Why make her wait? He thought to himself. He swung his hand up and brought a balled-up fist back down upon the side of her face. He heard more than felt, the crack of her nose as it broke, blood gushing out of it. A muffled scream escaped her lips as she screwed her eyes shut in pain.          He leaned back into a kneeling position so he could observe his prey better. She was now pulling harder at her arms, trying to free them from the thick blue twine which held her. He could feel his erection harden and pop through the open zip of his jeans. He was loving every minute of this.          “If it ever gets out that I have done this to you b1tch,” He snarled, making her freeze and look up at him. “Your reputation will plummet so quickly you will wonder whether your cushy little job and lifestyle ever existed. You will wish you had never come to work here in the first place. You should have just stayed in Oxford, you don’t belong here, and you definitely do not deserve the position you hold. You only got it because you are a woman and they have to pretend to care about women’s rights and all that sh1t. Women are only ever good at two things. Keeping house and bearing children. If I had to, I would slit that perfect little throat of yours and watch the life drain out of you slowly. Then you won’t be pretty anymore, will you? Do you understand me?”          She nodded obediently. He stood up from where he was straddling her waist and looked down at her naked, bruised, and battered body. He pulled off his jeans, fumbling them in his haste and almost falling on top of her. She watched him in fear, knowing what was about to happen. He already had a condom on, ready to go. He moved over her and sharply pushed inside of her, making her scream in agony, the best she could against the gag. It was deep and undulating in the base of her throat as she struggled beneath him. He began to move roughly inside of her, making her recoil with every move he made, every fiber in her body fighting against him and his invasion of her body. She closed her eyes and began to pray that it would be over soon.          Once he was done with her, he stood back and looked down at her whilst pulling his jeans back on and zipping himself back up, leaving the condom on until he got home. He didn’t want to leave any evidence that he had been there.  She was now shivering and had finally ceased struggling. He sniggered as he stood there watching her for a while. She really was pretty and the blood made it all that more interesting. All the fight had gone from her now, her eyes had lost that twinkle. She just lay there as still as anything.          After a moment, he turned and picked up a knife that was resting on the bedside cabinet. It glistened and caught her attention from out of the corner of her eye. It was one of her expensive chef knives that normally hung on the wall in her kitchen. She froze when she saw it in his hand and just stared at it, not blinking. He took off the gag and held the blade to her throat to let her know what would happen if she tried screaming. He leaned down, his lips meeting hers, and he tasted her blood in his mouth. He kissed her passionately. She pushed her head back into the pillow beneath her, screwing her eyes shut and trying to get away from him – stopping when she felt the knife dig deeper into her neck. Just one slight movement and her life would be over and she knew it. He could feel it in her posture and he moved the knife slightly so that it cut the skin on her throat and let out more of her blood onto the pillow. Oh, how he loved that.          Finally, he finished off by smacking her hard around the face. Being that she was so tired, and having lost a small amount of blood, the slap knocked her clean out and she fell limply against the bed. He undid her bonds but left them on the bed as a reminder for her. He checked her pulse, he was certain she would come around in time, not that he cared. He took hold of her left hand and snapped the thin bones at the wrist with ease in his big beefy hand. He dropped the bloody knife on the floor. He didn’t worry about cleaning it as he was wearing gloves, so no prints would be left. At the door, he turned and made one last survey of the mess he had left. Grinning, he exited the house and returned to his own home.