Page 20 of Savage Keepsakes

Miles’ screams reverberate through my skull. He’s such a little bitch. When faced with a woman, he acted like such a tough guy.

He sounds like my shit-stain mother. My entire childhood can be explained by screaming. Every night I didn’t provide for her, she would yell at me.

She hit the bottle way too often, spread her legs for every fucking cock, and made me pay for existing. She was too comfortable hurting someone weaker than her, just like this fucker is.

“Youareinsane,” he whimpers.

“Odd choice of words to the guy holding the scalpel, but hey, it’s not my funeral.”

I finish stripping him naked. When he kicks out at me, I grip his calf and seize a restraint. Securing both ankles, I hook his heels against the wall. He’s now spread-eagle, like he’s waiting for a dicking. Facing me, his body is waiting for my next move.

“Bro, if you’re gonna fuck me, I’m not down for that,” he stutters out.

I tilt my head to stare at him. A slow smile works its way across my lips. “I wouldn’t fuck you with someone else’s dick, let alone my own. No, my man, we’re gonna have dinner.”

I step closer, his body odour and sweat filling the space.

Facing Miles, I tape his dick to his thigh. I hold onto his scrotum, slicing through the lower portion, following the same technique used to castrate bulls.Based on my reading, I expect it to be a similar process with humans.

The warm, sticky sensation of blood dripping down my wrist to my forearm as his cries echo in my ears gives me a high like none other. Cutting through the white membrane, I’m able to see his testicles, but they don’t fall out like I thought they would.

Lifting a pair of tongs, I wiggle them about, grasping and tugging the spheres until they pull free. Looking up at his face, he’s passed out. That’s unfortunate. I wanted to show him the balls he should have been using to take better care of my Lou.

I bring the testicles over to the grill, turning it on low, and return to his pathetic form. Leaning over to the tray, I pick up a needle and thread, ready to stitch him back together.

Using the leather burner, I cauterize the wound. The acrid scent of singed hair and flesh fills the space, the smell centring me as I sew.

Standing back, I appreciate my handy work. The fun is gone for now with him passed out.

With a grunt, I lift him off the pulley system and lay him down on the table. I restrain his ankles and leave his hands free for now.

Grabbing the bloody tongs, I step over to man the grill and flip the testicles.

“Jesus, I thought this was a nightmare.”

“Evening, sweetheart. How’re you feeling?”

His face is very pale, and panic fills his eyes.

“What did you do to my fucking balls?” His chest heaves as he takes in a shaky breath. He stares at the speckles of blood on his fingers.

“What kinda weird shit do you think I’m into?” I grin wickedly and he returns to petting his scrotum.

I grab a plate, pulling off one of the charred testicles. Using a kitchen knife, I cut it into pieces and add a dash of salt for seasoning.

“You know, I’m a taxidermist, but sometimes people give me gifts of meat. I’m a vegetarian, but I don’t have the heart to tell ‘em, you know? Lucy says you like meat. I need you to try this so I can tell my client the next time they’re here if I liked it or not.”

Miles struggles to sit up. I offer him a hand, and he looks dumbly at his ankles. “Why am I tied up?”

“Just a precaution. Wanted to break bread with you and enjoy your company before I set you free.”

“This seems wrong. Where’s Lucy? There was an accident, you said, and then…”

“My man, would I steer you wrong? Lucy’s fine. She’s just done with your shit.”

“I want to leave. My head’s fucking killing me.” He seems to still be dazed—that, or he’s just this dumb.

I spear a chunk of meat and press it to his lips. His gaze flits between it and me, but after a moment of hesitation, he opens his mouth and takes a bite.

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