Page 17 of Mutual Prey

“Well, I’ll just have to try harder next time.”

“Next… time?”

I blink in confusion at this revelation that he’snotgoing to kill me. At least not yet.

“Yeah, I told you, Cass. What would be the fun in killing you so quickly? I’ve spent years thinking of you. I’m not going to just slit your throat and call it a day. I’m gonna take my time. You know, it’s fun to play with your prey. And that’s just what you are, baby. A very sweet, pretty, cute prey.”

No one’s ever described me as sweet, pretty, or cute, and bile rises up in my throat at the words. But not enough that I don’t whine in regret when he pulls back.

Damn it.I don’t care what it says about me, but I really need his cock. I don’t think I’ve ever needed anything more than I need his cock right now.

Not even revenge.

“Maybe I’ll let you have it next time, if you’re a very good girl,” he chuckles as he stands up. “But I told you. You have to earn it.”

“Fuckyou.”

“Tsk, tsk. Seems to me youdoneed a Daddy in your life. Someone to spank you and soap your mouth when you’ve been a brat.”

Okay. How the hell does he know about the soap?

“Finn!” I cry out when he opens the door. “Aren’t you going to… untie me?”

And remove the ax and the rifle from my pussy and ass?

“You’re a big girl,” he says, walking out. “I’m sure you can manage.”

4

Imay be a big girl, but by the time I manage to get out of my bonds, it’s morning.

Maybe I would’ve managed it before if I hadn’t been exhausted by the two intense orgasms and the 200-pound lugging around and disposing of body parts that preceded it. Anyway, it wasn’t so bad. It kind of felt like I was a suckling pig, but one that was resting on the table quietly after having been roasted on a spit for hours.

In other words, it was fine.

Until I needed to pee.

There’s just no way I’m peeing in my Hermes bedsheets.

Luckily, Finn tied me down with masking tape, which I’m used to. I manage to wriggle out of them at last, then nearly peeright then and there when I sit up unthinkingly, causing spasms of pain in both my holes as the rifle and ax handle twist inside me.

It could’ve been a lot worse. That rifle could have gone off, and shot up my… I really don’t want to think about that.

Sucking in deep breaths, I pull out both weapons, realizing for the first time just how achy I am. Then I use the sharp edge of the ax to cut through the masking tape at my ankles.

I amsosore. I don’t think I’ve ever been this sore before. My ass and pussy are on fire, and the rest of me is both stiff from the night spent tied up and the 200-pound workout yesterday.

After peeing for what feels like ten minutes, I grab two Advil from the medicine cabinet and wash them down with a big glass of water. Then I hobble into the shower, and let the scalding water soothe me.

I click the side button on my phone to turn on the screen, and gasp when I see the time.Shit. I mean crap. No, shit.

Now that I’ve let out a few curse words, it’s hard to stop.

And it’s equally hard to scramble into my clothes, wincing at every movement, before racing across campus to my first class.

Biology. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. And not just because Biology is my passion. It’s also because, smiling at the class from the front of the lecture hall, stands my next victim.

Professor Alistair Cotton. The man who stole my mother’s research and passed it off as his own.