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CHAPTER 220

Austin

The hysterics were nice until her screams semi-damaged my eardrums. I expected her to fight and she almost disappointed me. She’s different than I thought she would be. The excitement I feel over terrorizing her is a surprise. I kill with cold dispassion. This is different, a methodical game of restraint not to kill that I’ve never experienced.

I step on the foot pedal and the Dragonfly fires up. I delight when her body goes rigid at the sound before I depress the pedal and the room is quiet again. The sound of her harsh breathing thunders through my veins and I swear our hearts sync.

Normally I would tell a person to relax. Not because I care, but because it’s what you do when someone’s in your chair—or bed as the case is now. I don’t want her to relax, though. I want this to fucking hurt. I want her to feel every fucking needle prick as I mutilate her lovely skin. I want to penetrate her skin further than I should and watch the colors bleed into her flesh. I want my ink to be
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