Oh my GOD! I don’t know how much more of this I can take! It’s been three days and Percy is driving me insane with all the moaning and groaning, crying and mumbling. It’s just too much. I know I said I wanted him to suffer, but this is more than I bargained for. He is really starting to get on my nerves!
I can tell the plan is working like it’s supposed to. He looks so different already. He hasn’t had food or water since we tied him down. I don’t know what the hell Tre’ gave him, but coming down off of that stuff really did a number on him. He experienced the shakes and tremors; thrashing against the leather ties knowing all the while that he couldn’t get up to get a fix. I’m sure the Milk of Magnesia didn’t help either. It drained him - literally. There was nothing left for his body to feed on; no liquids left to sustain normal bodily functions. Percy’s skin was becoming sallow and tacky; the dark circles under his bulging eyes becoming more pronounced. It reminded me of the black eyes he gave me time and time again. His lips were cracked and bleeding. Every time he turned his head or convulsed from the pain, the leather strap between his teeth rubbed the skin just a bit rawer. I’m sure the rubbing alcohol I put on his lips didn’t help much. I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head when the alcohol dripped under the strap and burned his raw skin.
Cooking and then eating in front of him didn’t help much either. Sure he cried from the alcohol, but when he watched me eating - enjoying every morsel of my hot meal - that’s when the tears really started to fall. Can you believe that? Big, bad ass Percy was whimpering like a little bitch. That just made me want to punish him more. I pulled a chair up close to the bed with my plate of hot food in my hand. Every time I got ready to take a bite, I would put the food right up close to his nose and act like I was going to give him some and then pull it away. I over did it – sighing and mmm’ing every time. He looked so pitiful. For a minute, I felt sorry for him. Then I thought about my baby, and well, that was that.
But he’s starting to smell; old sweat mingled with the occasional pissing he does. That’s not a pleasant smell. He’s wallowing in his own filth - just what he deserves! I didn’t realize how bad it was going to be, and I think that’s what’s frustrating me about this whole thing. I’m starting to feel like I just want it to be over and done already. Maybe a change in plan is in order…