Page 98 of Under the Bed

Unfortunately, shoving my dick inside her right now will defeat the purpose of this game.

This elongated torture.

I can wait.

I have years of this to look forward to. Decades. I’ll make it my life’s mission to keep her on her toes. I’ll destroy her sanity, methodically. Carefully. Just enough to drive her to the brink of madness and bringthislook out of her.

“Obsessed with my mask.” My explanation is clipped, my voice low as I stare at Shiloh. “Obsessed with my stepsister. That’s why I’m here. I have issues.”

“Is that so?” she starts, despite her professor’s raised hand. “Issues? Is that what they call a person who’s trying to self-sabotage himself?” When she catches herself, she quickly adds, “Self-sabotaging, since you can’t think of anything other than your obsessions, I mean.”

“Miss Talbot.” Professor Asshole’s voice booms. I hear him tapping his pen in annoyance. As if either of us cares that he’s upset. “I’ll let you know when it’s your turn to conduct the interview and when your diagnosis is required. For the time being, you only listen.”

“Sorry.” Her blue eyes spit flames. She isn’t sorry at all.

Just how I love her.

“Jakob.” My fake name on his lips barely registers. He clears his throat, a sign that he wants my attention. He’ll regret it later. I twist my head to him, and his lips tick upward. Idiot. “At what age did you first start noticing these compulsions?”

When Dad started beating the shit out of me, I needed my mask. Needed to be gone from this stupid world that had nothing to offer me.

When Shiloh turned eighteen, and I couldn’t help but take my cock out and jerk off until cum covered my hand down to my wrist.

That’s when I noticed my obsession with her.

And though I haven’t mentioned my murderous needs, I have an answer for that, too.

I hadn’t been like the other kids in kindergarten or school. Heck, I wasn’t anything like anyone at Berkshire. I’d spent years suppressing my desire to slaughter people. Silent, since talking to people has always been a waste of breath. No one interested me enough to put in the effort.

No one got in the way.

But when someone did…

Professor Dipshit won’t be hearing any of it, though.

What I have to say, what I want Shiloh to hear, is a simple enough answer. “Years ago. And every day since. Every minute.”

“Fascinating.” No idea what’s fascinating about six words that mean nothing to him.

Maybe it isn’t what I’m saying. It’s what I am. A grown man wearing a mask. On the month of Halloween, but still. I stand out. Dr. Reynolds made sure to emphasize that during our sessions at Berkshire.

“You care deeply for your mask, that much is obvious.” He pauses, seeking my approval. I huff. “Your stepsister, though. How has that obsession been manifesting itself?”

By putting my dick in her virgin, dubiously willing cunt. By forcing her to come.

“I stalk her.” I shrug.

This is more information than Dr. Reynolds ever got.

It enrages Shiloh that I’m divulging it here. All these clues that I’m dropping.

Her breaths get louder. I hear her fingernails scratching the fabric of the armrests.

Hot, but not as hot as the sounds that came out of her when she gagged on my cock.

“How?” she snaps, and it’s sweet how she unravels for me. “How could you have possibly stalked her when you weren’t?—”

“Final warning, Miss Talbot.” He covers her hand.

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