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Michael:

     I want him. I want him so bad it hurts, right here. Right here in my fucking crotch. But I can’t do it. I can’t do it to him. I can’t. I can’t.

     But I want to. I really, really want to.

     I don’t understand. I don’t understand why I can’t. Why can’t I fuck him? I can beat him, whip him, feel him, bite him, tear him, rake him, bleed him. And he takes it. Why does he take it? Why? I want him to stop taking it, it’s no fun that way. I can’t get pleasure that way, I can’t be satisfied that way. I can’t keep tasting him that way. His blood is sweet, so sweet, but I don’t like it. I don’t like it. I hate it. I hate it. Hate it. HATE IT!

     Stop taking it. Stop taking it! I want you. I want you so bad. I want your taste. I want your mouth. I want your body on mine. I want to get inside you, so deep. So deep. I want your flesh beneath mine. I want your skin in my hands. I want your legs around my waist. I want to feed on your neck. I want to feed on your lips, your face, your back. I want your skin. That pale, pale, ivory white. That soft, delectable satin, supple between my teeth. Those pale, pale rose lips, gasping softly. I want you. I want you.

     Stop reading. Stop taking pleasure from your books. You should be taking pleasure only in me. You saw me first. I saw you first. No one can touch you. You are mine. You’re only mine! MINE! You are beneath my control. I like twisting my fingers into your black, black hair. I like breathing in that black, black softness, I like your essence. I like pulling back your head. I like seeing you cry. Silently. Only for me. No sound. Just tears. Just tears. Just the fucking tears! Stop it! Stop crying! Make noise. Scream for me. Yell. Struggle. Stop taking it! Stop it. I want you. I want you to kiss me. Keep kissing me. Let me eat your tongue. Let me feel you. Let me beat you. Let me cut you. Scream. Stop it.

     You Love me. Why do you Love me? Love. You told me you Loved me. Love. What the fuck is that? Love. Why? Why Love me? I want you. I hurt you. I keep you. No one can touch you. Love. Why? Fuck it. I want to fuck you. Love. What the fuck is it? What is Love. Stop. Don’t say it anymore. Kiss me. Let me eat your tongue. You never complain. I try going too far, yet I can’t. I can’t take you. I have raped you in so many other ways. Why can’t I take you? Love. You told me you Loved me. I want to fuck you. No one can touch you! You’re mine. Keep kissing me. Trail down my neck. Trail down my chest. Trail down my belly. Trail to my pelvis.

     You would do it, wouldn’t you? I wouldn’t even have to tell you, or force you. I want to force you. Stop. You never complain. You told me you Love me. Please whimper. Please say no. Please don’t let me. Please struggle. Please let me force you. Please. Please. Then this confusion will stop and I can take you. I can rape you. I can fuck you. I can finally kill you. Your use spent. Then I don’t have to keep you. Then I don’t have to beat you. Then I don’t have to see you cry. Then I don’t have to hurt you. Then I don’t have to keep you near. Then I don’t have to hear you say you Love me, again and again in my mind. You only told me once. I hit you. Only once and I hit you. Stop. Don’t fucking touch me. Put your fucking clothes back on. Fucking faggot. I would never call you that. You’re a fucking faggot and I would never call you that. Because flesh is flesh. Male or Female. Flesh is Flesh. I take whatever I can of it.

     Put your fucking clothes back on. Who would ever Love you? Who needs you? Who knows you exist? No one else would ever touch you. Everyone would beat you. They would treat you worse than me. They wouldn’t stop. They’d rape you. They’d fuck you. They’d kill you and leave you naked in the mud. Put your fucking clothes back on.

     You’re crying. Silent. No sound. Only tears. You’re kneeling. Clutching your sides. Bent over your knees. That white linen button up shirt flayed open. Pants still on. Stop. Stop crying. Cry for me. You only cry for me. You never shed tears for anyone else. You never look at anyone else. You always look me in the eyes. You never look when I throw you away. You punish me too. You don’t know it. You don’t know. You’re too innocent to know. Stop. Keep crying. Don’t look at me. Love. You told me you Loved me. I hit you. Stop. Stop. STOP!

     I want you. Stop. I want you. Stop. I need you! Please scream. Please run away. Please put your fucking clothes on. Stop crying. Then I can fuck you. Then I can kill you. Then I won’t need you. Then I won’t want you. Love. Stop crying. Love. Look at me! Love. Stop. If I picked you up again you would continue. You wouldn’t complain. You would do it. That’s no fun. Love. Stop. You would like the chance to please me. You always want to please me. You cry because you think you don’t please me. You told me you Loved me. I hit you. You think I don’t want you. You wonder why I don’t fuck you. You would let me. You would let me do it. You would take it. Stop. Stop taking it! You never complain. Love. You never complain. Love. NEVER! Get up. My pet. Get up.

     Love.

     He told me.

     Love.

     Only once.

     Love.

     I hit him.

     Make it stop. Moses. Make it stop.

     Help me.