She walked unclothed to the door and looked both ways in the hallway like a child tentatively crossing the street. Pet was haunted by the belief that she had done something wrong in her relatively juvenile life, but she was unsure what it could be. Seeing and hearing no one, she fairly tip-toed her way down the hall to the bathroom, where she naturally turned on the light and shut the door.
Shortly thereafter, the man returned to find Pet missing, having in essence left him at the altar.
He panicked and ran from the room, grabbing a knife as he exited. When he saw the light on under the bathroom door, he felt foolish. And then angry about feeling foolish. He stood to the left of the door and when she began to walk down the hall, grabbed her from behind.
She saw the knife before she felt it, the same one that had unnerved her when she saw it the first time in the grotto. By then it was too late to scream, his hand now covering her mouth so tightly it hurt. He simply returned her to the altar and tied her up again, never saying a word.
The hand with the knife hovered between her spread thighs.
Well, this is it, Pet thought, I’m going to die.
He rotated his elbow, raring back to drive the blade home, and said in a whisper, “I am your punishment.”
Even in the last seconds of her life, she was incredibly turned on. As the knife blade flew toward her crotch, she found herself replying, “And I am yours.”
As the last possible instance, he spun the knife around in a deft maneuver that was clearly a practiced one. Instead of puncturing her with the blade, the over-sized handle slammed home, leaving Pet writhing in orgasm with the blade protruding. For a few moments it quivered and vibrated like a tuning fork as she squirmed and rolled from side to side within the confines of her ropes.
When she finally looked up he was gone. Pet hoped he would be back, and soon. He had tied her much tighter the second time and she wasn’t sure she could escape again. After a while, she began to suspect she had been abandoned. She focused her efforts on a series of contractions intended to push the knife handle out. It was over-sized and wooden, which made it slow going despite her outstanding muscular control. Two minutes later, it dropped to the altar with a thump just as he re-entered the room.
Wordlessly, he began to untie her. She sat up, rubbing her wrists as he released her ankles. Neither mentioned the knife.
Pet swung her legs around and sat at the edge of the altar, naked and unashamed.
“That was fun,” she cooed. “For a little while, I thought you were gonna kill me.”
The face that was looking at her turned away.
His hand went to his pocket, and she knew his pager was going off again.
“I have to go,” he said. “My wife…”
“Your wife?” she shrieked, leaping down and advancing on him, causing him to retreat from the finger jabbing at his chest.
“I knew you were no serial killer. You don’t fit the profile.”
Pet didn’t wonder why she felt disappointed.
“Asshole,” she hissed.
“Now what?” he asked.
“Now what?” she mocked. “You’re asking me what to do?”
He looked into her violet eyes pleadingly.
“You leave. I stay. And in return, you give me…everything I want.”
She looked at him with defiance in her eyes.
“Or?” he asked.
“Or you kill me. Or you go to prison for life. Or I kill you. There are lots of ways to go with this, I think. It’s all the same to me,” she sniffed.
Checkmated, his eyes searched the floor.
“Can I go?” he asked without looking up.
“One more thing,” she said, causing him to look up at her.