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He walked around so that I could see him, his hand was heavily bandaged and he had a half bottle of Jack Daniels in his good hand. The claws and faucet were brass colored and I simply watched him test the water, add some bath salts and started to strip himself. “Let go of me,” growled Clyde. I listened to his grunts, his words as he cursed me and ground my head against the wooden spool when I wasn’t responding in a way to please him. When I didn’t reply his hands grabbed my arms, squeezing until I was sure he’d break them. When Clyde finally came I could feel the heat of him coating my insides and he just stood there, body propped up by him just holding my head into the wooden spool.
