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I let my hormones and obsession get the best of me. I promised her extra time and she vanished. At first it was amusing, I searched for her day and night, but after two months of not being able to find her, my father found out that I'd screwed up a hit. For the second time in my life. I couldn't walk right for three months after that punishment.
I know better than to try and barter with a mark for more time. Stella was the one and only one who ever got away. Clarence won't leave this basement with his life. In fact Clarence won't leave this basement with all his parts.
"Keep your mouth shut. I'll make this hurt a lot more than it needs to if you don't shut the fuck up." The sharp paring knife glints in the dim light. It really doesn't matter if Clarence screams, we're far enough away from the population that I know no one will hear him.
He chose this house to take his underage conquests. i bet he never expected his latest fuck to be me.
"No! Please!" Clarence begs one last time before the threats begin. "Don't you fucking touch me! I'll have your fucking spine ripped out of your body if you lay one more finger on me. You don't know who you're messing with!"
With a deep sigh, I roll my eyes before I pick up his dirty underwear and ball them up. "Why can't you bastards ever just take what's coming to you with some grace and dignity?" Harder than I need to, I grab hold of his hair and yank his head back. Clarence lets out a long wail which I abruptly cut off by shoving his briefs into his mouth. He whimpers and continues to try and kick out but I'm already in prime position.
When I grab hold of his dick his kicking stops and tears begin to fall down his cheeks. Desperation glitters in his eyes as he stares down at me. I can almost feel his pain. Almost.
Unfortunately for him, I'm in no rush and he decided his last words were to threaten me. For that he needs to suffer a little more than necessary.
I place the paring knife right at the base of his cock and slowly begin to cut through the flesh.
His high pitched squeal make my ears ring. Blood bubbles up from the precise cut and I have to use my body weight to keep his legs from bucking up .
Slowly and while humming a soft tune, I continue to make the deep slices. Once I get about a quarter of the way, I stop and walk back over to the long table where I have my equipment set up. Blood paints Clarence's legs as it drips down from his manhood. It makes the paleness of his legs stand out even more.
A notification pops up on my phone, from my older brother Giancarlo. He wants to know what I want for dinner. He and his girlfriend are having us over for a little family time. It's the first time in a while and I've been told that I can't miss it. It doesn't matter, that I'm all the way near the Delaware water gap and it'll take me hours to get back to New York. Family is most important and it takes precedent. At least that's what my father likes to preach.
I send a quick message to my brother telling him to send me the time and ask him if I need to bring anything. I put the phone down before he has the chance to answer. I don't hear Clarence moaning anymore. He doesn't get to die before I'm through with him.
I grab one of my smelling salts and break the small capsule under his nose. He shakes his head from side to side to get away from the intense smell. When his eyes open and he sees me in his face again the tears start back up. I don't have the energy for it. And thanks to the impromptu dinner plans I have for tonight I don't have the time for it either.
I hear him start to mumble please through the gag. The smell of blood begins to overwhelm me. I could inhale that smell for my entire life and never get enough of it. Grabbing his cock again, I continue cutting through the flesh with the paring knife. This time I don't stop until I get to the last third and past all the major veins and cartilage.
"The man who put the hit on you, do you know who it is?" I ask Clarence.
He doesn't try to speak anymore, now he just shakes his head.
"He's a father. A man whose daughter you tried to lure here and have sex with. There are worse people in the world than you. Maybe you could have gone on to live a fucked up existence somewhere in the underground world if you only were able to keep your eyes on women over the age of eighteen. Now you'll know the reason you'll die dickless is because of your sick obsession. I hope it was worth it." I shrug and with one final slice I cut the rest of his cock off from his body. The complete shaft, from root to tip in its flaccid state isn't larger than my palm from side to side. Still I'm sure he'd rather have a small dick than no dick at all.
I pull out my burner phone and take a photo of Mr. Proper, hanging from the pipe, no pants on and dickless. It's not the cleanest work I've done but it'll do.
"Time to go." I warn but instead of Clarence begging for his life he simply nods his head. There's no reason to fight. I'm glad he finally got the point. There's no use in trying to run away from the inevitable.
That's who I am. The inevitable end.
I grab hold of the silenced Glock from the table and press the barrel in the very center of Clarence's forehead. He squeezes his eyes shut and I pull the trigger.
There's no loud bang, all I can hear is the squelching plop of his brain matter as it falls out the back of his head. The small hole in the front steams and a wisp of smoke comes out from the charred hole. The back of his head is peeled open almost like a blooming flower. It's almost art.
When there's no more breath left in his body I take another photo of him lifeless with the bullet wound in his head. Thankfully, I've already put in a call for the cleaners to come and do away with his body.
They always do a good job getting all the remains up. The only part of Clarence Proper I have to worry about is the small hunk of meat I agreed to send to the father as proof of completion. I'll need to find a nice gift box to send it in.
After I pack up all my equipment, I meticulously wash off the blood on my hands. One life down, another hit completed. The money I'll get from the hit will be split two ways. Half for me and the other half for the family, my tribute.
Even though I've never wanted a seat at the table, my father made sure I knew that I'd still have to contribute. What better way than this.
Doing something I love and that pays well. Now if only I can use it as an excuse to get out of this dinner.
"Let's get this over with." I huff out as I send a message to cleaners that the body is ready for processing and I walk over to my black Camry and slip into the worn-in driver's seat.
It'll be a long drive back to the city, one I'm not looking forward to.
