Journals of a Psychopath.



Mother is dominating to the point of complete subjection.


      ”You can see Hanson soon. Charlenson prepare coffee, but I do not want Hanson drinking it.”
Mother’s eyes bore into mine, Charl's was brave.
      “Can he have coffee just this once?”
Mother relented. Shuffling into the stuffy room and sis held the platter loaded with coffee. Hanson’s face was hollowed, his body skeletal, and once his physique was congruent to mine, strong, Hanson’s bony arms stretched out on the sheet. The stillness was unnerving sis broke it.
      “Do you want a coffee?”
Hanson nodded. Mother departed from the room and shut the door. Analyzing Hanson, he closed his eyelids, Hanson’s eyelashes long silver-blond and curly.
      “Clarkson has a son,” Charlenson said.
      “You sired a male?”
      “Yep I have.”
Decanting bourbon into his coffee and he was glad, the room was quiet apart from the tinkle of the cups.
      “We must leave,” I said.
He studied us and giving him the rest of the bottle of bourbon, he hid it under his mattress.

Twin Moon Forks

Entering the store and Emilee lifted the sex toy, she handed it to me, blushed, her face was sweet the flush enhanced it. Emilee’s vision-spheres blue near to navy and they riveted on the pink vibrator. Flicking the button it pulsated, I stared into her eyes, the toy continued to throb on my hand. Her figure was nimble and gave the illusion of weakness, but I could tell she was strong. Her mammary glands medium in size, I imagined touching the orbs. Chains and masks graced the wall I was not impressed, because I was the best in the art of tyranny and bondage.
Pushing the door open a man ambled in, he was shifty, and his facial skin plagued with acne. Perusing the items, he dared to glance, his eyes slid away quickly, he was wary about the look in my vista-orbs. Emilee presented a note, reading the scribbled writing, she wanted to meet I was irritated. Busying at the counter, Emilee was embarrassed. Scanning her, she saw the contempt in my eyes, and Emilee rushed into the back room. The man snatched a vibrator and pushed it into his pocket. He lumbered through the door and I shouted to Emilee, she emerged.
      “That man stole a vibrator.”
She busied herself tidying the paperwork, she glanced, I leaned on the glass, and then I dawdled out of the door.

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