- Joined
- Mar 22, 2026
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Joy Division’s “Shadowplay” begins at ~ 5:58 a.m., I’m in the elevator again. The DEI coordinator who still emails about “safe spaces” smiles at me. I tell her the board meeting ran late and I have notes she needs to see. She follows because they always follow good looking men.
The door to my apartment closes. The song loops. I have her against the wall before she can speak, zip ties on her wrists, knees forced apart. The box cutter starts at her collarbone and drags down between her breasts in one clean line. Blood wells up warm. I push inside the fresh slit while the guitar snarls, fucking the wound slow and deep, feeling her ribs scrape against me. She screams into my hand. I whisper slowly: “Your safe space is my cock now.” Every thrust pulls more red down her stomach. The pleasure is the same flat pulse as the music. When the song hits its final echo I open her carotid and step back, watching her slide down the wall exactly on beat.
I take my headphones off as the elevator dings, another wonderful daydream.
The door to my apartment closes. The song loops. I have her against the wall before she can speak, zip ties on her wrists, knees forced apart. The box cutter starts at her collarbone and drags down between her breasts in one clean line. Blood wells up warm. I push inside the fresh slit while the guitar snarls, fucking the wound slow and deep, feeling her ribs scrape against me. She screams into my hand. I whisper slowly: “Your safe space is my cock now.” Every thrust pulls more red down her stomach. The pleasure is the same flat pulse as the music. When the song hits its final echo I open her carotid and step back, watching her slide down the wall exactly on beat.
I take my headphones off as the elevator dings, another wonderful daydream.
