She went back to the kitchen and made a sandwich. Sitting at the island, facing the window, the greyness confronted her again. Even the sandwich taste... plain. Two slices of nondescript white bread spread with boring and topped with grey. She dropped the sandwich on the plate. Tears formed in her eyes. Paul. She stood and ran up the stairs. Without a pause, without even another thought about what she was doing or the dangers that could follow, she found Paul’s page again and figured out how to. "Did you think I was going to kiss you, whore? Know your place. Your mouth is a fuck hole, you are a fuck toy for my pleasure, to be played with as I see fit." You slap me again and spit in my other eye. You smear the spit across my face and slap me again, harder with Your wet hand.You tell me "I have a surprise for you" and pull a noose from a bag I hadn't noticed before. You place the noose around my neck, the knot and the rope hanging down my back. You run the rope across my forehead, thread. More

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