Trish thought about how bizarre her life was, and just how crazy she and her father were. She was going down to breakfast to eat with a man who had de...ided to kill his seven year old daughter just the night before. Then again, he was also going to kill her, but she would still sit down to have breakfast with him and the rest of her family like they were the goddamned Cleavers. That is except there was no mom at that table.She thought back to when she saw her mother die. It was the first time. I got a rope from my backpack which I always took with me on these occassions. Not a rope, actually, but a cord used for washing lines. I love the look of the whiteness of the cord against her flesh. I stood in front of her with the cord. She put her wrists out, still looking down. I tied the cord around one wrist, knotted it, then tied the other wrist to it. That’s the best way to tie slave’s hands. My breath was heavy now. The combination of eroticism, the power rush, the expectation. More

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