Good Friends, Good Food.

Disclaimer: This story is mine and no money was made from it's writing. These people exist only in my twisted mind any resemblance to anyone living dead (yadda, yadda) is unintentional and totally my bad.

Extra Disclaimer: Murder, rape, and torture, etc, NOT okay. This story is fiction, which means NOT REAL. Nobody deserves what happens to the Sinclair’s, a fictional family, to happen to them…EVER!

A/N: Again, thanks to all who’ve reviewed, I thrive on ‘em, so keep’m coming.

I tired of my cruel sport and tossed the crop aside. It clattered in the corner. Melody’s incredible, shapely ass, which I had fantasized about a great deal, was now a mass of red welts. A few welts were bleeding but such a little blood loss would cause no permanent injury. Melody was crying, still deepthroating the plastic cock. Leaving her there for a few more moments I went into the washroom and returned carrying a tray, the contents of which were covered by a paper towel and placed it near her. I pulled her head by again grabbing a handful of her luxurious brown hair. I threw her to the floor. She rolled over onto her stomach to alleviate the pain that her sitting on her ass would surely cause.
“I promised you’d eat after your shower,” I said as I dropped a metal dog bowl near her. It spun on it’s edge before landing upside down. I flipped it over with my toe before I dropped trou and urinated in it. Then I removed the papertowel from the tray. A large steaming turd lay on the tray. I left her to eat her’breakfast’.

Almost an hour later, I returned. She hadn’t touched her breakfast.
“You ungrateful bitch. Why don’t you ever eat what I give you?” I helped her up replaced the ball-gag and helped her back into her cage. Then, because it had been such a long day, I headed for bed. The sun would be up in a few hours, and I hadn’t slept since getting up for work early that morning.

I was awakened from a too short sleep by the phone. It was Mark.
“Curtis, I’m coming home until I find out what’s happened to Melody.”
“Tomorrow then?” I asked. I wasn’t ready for him to come home yet.
“I only wish I could. I need three days still. I’ll be home in four days.”
“Okay good, I’ll see you in four days then.” I hung up the phone and had a few seconds of panic. A few seconds later, I composed myself. I walked to the grocery store and bought two 24 packs of water. I put 3 next to her cage, secured her wrists in front of her using a black zip-tie and removed her ball-gag. By the early afternoon, when I came to check on her, she was done the first two and nearly done her third.
“I have to pee,” she said in her soft voice.
“I suspect you would,” I said as I approached the cage. “But you’ll have to something for me when you’re done, mkay?” she nodded so I unlocked it and helped her out with my right hand, pointing at the pail in the corner with my other hand. She made it over, and after a brief struggle, settled on the edge of the pail. While she was occupied, I dropped my pants freeing my throbbing manhood. When she was done, I helped her to stand.
“On your knees,” I instructed. Without so much as a whimper, she did as she was bidden. “Using your mouth, take off my boxers and get me off.” Again, she made not a sound and did as she was bidden. “Look up at me,” I ordered. Looking into her misery filled, beautiful, brown eyes, feeling her tongue caressing my manhood and her hot lips wrapped around it, overcame me and it wasn’t too long before I felt myself ready to cum which I did. In, what felt like gallons, I hosed the back of her throat, and kept going. As I continued staring into her beautiful brown eyes, filled with terror and misery, I felt deep sadness. I had to stop playing these games and get to work, if Mark was going to be home in four days, and I still had to prepare his wife. I again took her to the table and tied her in place, then raised the table so she was almost vertical.After replacing the ball-gag, and blindfolding her, I went to my tools that I had intended to use last night, I first removed the fishhook with fishing line.
“Hold still,” I said evenly, “this is gonna’ hurt, but if you thrash about, it’ll hurt even more,” I warned. I flicked at her clit cruelly hearing her hiss; but in pain or pleasure, I couldn’t say. Then I slowly inserted the barbed hook into her sensative nub. The scream, even muffled as it was by the rubber ball between her lips, was awesome to behold. I gave it a tug with the fishing line, causing another cry to come from my beautiful captive. I plugged in the electric razor, silently stepped behind her and held it next to her ear before turning it on. I expected her to, at least, jump. I wasn’t dissappointed. She even began to panic.
“Hold very still,” I reminded her. Shaking, she nodded. Using the razor and scissors in tandem, I made sure that her bush was gone. For this last part, I decided, I wanted her to see what I was going to do. I suspected the continual removing and replacing of her gags and blindfolds was unnerving – at best. I pulled off the blindfold, tossing it over my shoulder before holding the bolt cutters up in front of her eyes. Terror, horror, misery, and tears filled her eyes. I trailed the bolt cutters down her neck, chest tracing her breasts and down to her stretched clit. She shook her head and tried to plead and beg through her gagged mouth. Her screming reached a new pitch as I opened and closed the sharp blades resting on her clit.
“What are ya’ blubberin’ about? I haven’t even done anything yet,” I taunted the gorgeous, pleading, terrorized brunette before me. I looked at her pleading, terror filled eyes and with an evil, cruel smile, I snapped the bolt cutters closed. Her eyes opened wider than saucers for a moment before passing out as Melody Sinclair’s small, pink, nub dropped into my hand. I smacked her awake before removing her from the table and helping her into her cage. I went upstairs and returned with several more water bottles.

The rest of the day was more or less uneventful, I needed to clean up around the house a little bit and that took most of the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon. I put dinner in the oven. I decided Melody should have something to eat. At 7:00 on the nose, I helped her sit down on an extra cushion on the couch and we ate mashed potatoes with meatloaf and wine. I even served her some desert. Not bad for a last dinner. She was put back in her cage after dinner, and I left her in the cage over night but kept leaving water bottles for her every few hours.