Tonight, You Belong To Me

The duct tape feels coarse. The sound it emits as it unravels cuts through the darkness, announcing its presence above the pleas for life.

The dark grey confines It to the chair.

When the mouth is covered, silence greets us for the first time in hours.

What a reprieve. The quiet of the room allows me to truly focus on It. What I found at the bar looking for a night of lust and hedonism now reduced to a blubbering mass.

I stare at It as tears stream down Its face.

I look into those eyes that ignited the initial passion within me, and my mind can’t help but go back to a few hours before.

---

I went to the bar for a drink or two. I had no designs on the night ending up as it has, but as they say, life has a strange, almost fortuitous way of working itself out. I sat at the bar and ordered a drink, and before you know it, I had received a shot of whiskey from a man at the other end. I regarded him as I took the shot with gusto, and before I knew it, he was seated next to me.

We bantered; we bullshitted. His hazel eyes looked me over. My deep browns surveyed my prize for the evening and was not disappointed. I could tell his heavy, winter clothing was concealing a muscular figure. The excitement only waxed with the hours of drinking and carrying on.

We really tied one on. Well, if I am being honest, only he did. I plied him with booze and before long he failed to notice that I hadn’t drank nearly as much as him.

Then the song played from the jukebox. An oldie but goodie meant to be sung as a duet.

Tonight, You Belong to Me.

He belted his heart out as did I. I felt a connection with him for the last time. As I knew it would, something snapped. Maybe, it was the lyrics of the song reminding me of the ephemeral nature of most bar romances. More than likely, with the dawn, he would be gone. The thought horrified me. We may be together tonight, but that would be it. I will retreat to my lonely and worthless life, derelict and forgotten. Not tonight, I told myself, not ever again. I think about my apartment, and the liquid in the beaker and a smile breaks across my face. As the song finished, It slid Its hands up my leg. A tingle emanated throughout me as I fantasized about the rest of the evening.

I kissed It on the mouth and insisted on heading back to my place as it was only around the corner. Gleefully, It followed me like a dog tethered longingly and accepting to its master’s leash. It led us to now.

---

I lock eyes with It once again. It keeps staring at the front door of my apartment with a forlorn gaze and a hint of something that enrages me.

Hope.

Immobile, It has no way of protesting physically. So, Its eyes scream a thousand woes. As I strip off the pants and look at Its cock, flaccid and useless, I lick it.

Its member eventually begins to feel soft and pointless. I grow bored. My teeth find their place. The rubbery taste of his cock fills my mouth. I bite down. It breaks off into my mouth. As the familiar taste of blood and the feeling of ripped tissue announce their presence to my taste buds. It yelps, not as a human announces pain but as a dog reacts to a foot stomping its face. Like a goddamn, feeble animal.

I swallow it. It becomes a part of me.

The fear of losing It as It bleeds out fills my mind. I turn on the iron. I can tell Its vision is fading, but It gives me a look I hadn’t prepared for. Not one of fear but a look of perplexion. As I stand enigmatically next to the ironing board, I revel in the fact that he has no idea the horrors I have in store for It.

I grab the iron and walk slowly but surely to Its restrained figure. The undeterred gaze in my eyes as I stare at the wound that used to be Its penis informs It as to what’s going to come next. I press the steam release for effect. As terror fills Its eyes once again, I anticipate the smell of burning flesh. The iron moves closer, an inch away from contact.

Anticipating the glorious yelps and pleas, I let my guard down. The pain in my jaw as It elbows me came as such a such a surprise that I drop the iron and fall to the ground. With a singular purpose, It rips the rest of Its restraints free and bolts for the front door.

I followed in kind. Sheer survival guide Its actions as It runs out the front door. Survival is the only thought on my mind as well. I thought of the news stories, contemplating a life in prison.

As I ran through the dim light of my hallway, I could hear the sound of knocking on my neighbor’s door. My heart sinks as I could hear the creaking sound of the door giving way. The very slight light of the dimming fluorescent announced that someone had answered and was conversing with It. When I saw what apartment he happened upon, my heart fills with a vague sense of hope. He is at my conservative neighbor’s door. Every night I brought a man home, she would regard me with disgust and avoidance. I may see a happy ending to this yet.

After seeing the fading light in Its eyes and the inability of It to string together a coherent sentence given the loss of blood, I quickly wrap my arms around it. I inform the spinster next door that we had a lover’s quarrel. I assure her not to worry as we will keep the noise down and that Eric (the first name that came to my mind) will be safe with me.

The effects of the alcohol and loss of blood leave It impotent to respond. She looks us over with what I can only assume is disgust due to the lack of light. She mutters to herself as she slams the door in our faces.

“This generation, no morals.”

I lead it back as weakness overtakes It. The bright light of my apartment reveals the extensive loss of blood. I restrain It in the chair once more and decide it’s time.

The power drill emits a sound that cuts through the night air. As it contacts Its skull, the vibration reverberates up through my arm and shakes me to the core, resonating all the way to my toes. I am careful not to drill too far. I see the opening. As I look expectantly at the contents of the beaker, I realize this will be the tenth time I have administered a variation of The Solution. Rome wasn’t built in a day as they say, but I am tired of disposing of bodies. I have come so close to perfecting it. This will be the time that the acidic mixture of chemicals will render to me a companion.

A true lover that will last a lifetime. Reliant, pliable, and most importantly, MINE. I prepare myself for the sounds and smells it makes as it contacts the brain.

This will be the time. It has to be.

As the liquid is poured and settles, I give it a moment to take effect, something recognizes me in Its eyes as if some primitive instinct has kicked in. Some latent fear left over from Its former life. The hazel eyes still scream in protest, but I catch a hint of something.

Resignation.

Now it belongs to me, body and soul.

Tonight… and forever.