Page 37 of Mara
Continuing to scroll, I found a profile of a new local—a surgeon who worked not far from Wellard. I tried to look at his profile. The suit and tie get-up always had an allure in itself, but he didn’t show his face. All I could see was one single photo.
He was standing, his face cropped off, and his phone outstretched to show inked fingers. Behind him was what looked to be surgical equipment, maybe a gurney of some sort. It looked out of place in his suit, but then again, I implored him to wear normal clothes. I was rarely free of my damn scrubs.
I swiped to like the man’s profile and saw an instant notification showing we matched. Heat pooled in my belly, and the butterflies were more like molten lava. I chewed my nails and thought of some cheesy pick-up line I had been given before when someone found out I worked in medicine.
At least if you break my heart, you can mend it afterwards.
That was pretty cringeworthy, but the messages waiting in my inbox were way worse.
Can you patch me up, bae? I got a broken cock that needs fixin’.
Did you fall from heaven when the devil got jealous of you?
Oh, baby, you can stick me with your needle if I get to poke you with mine.
Frustrated and more than a little underwhelmed, I went to click out of the app when a new message caught my attention.
You must have hidden your face because a woman so beautiful that also works to save lives is an unfair advantage for idiots on this app.
That made me smile. The profile of this guy was a lot more normal. He was of average build, posing with a beer and his dog. I couldn’t fault the guy. He looked sweet like what every toy-story princess searched for in her dream guy.
So why did I only think about the fact that he didn’t have tattoos like Jinx? Or that his hair was so much darker than what I had wrapped in my fingers?
“Because you’re a fucking whore,” I told myself out loud, growling so loud that I scared Cheese from his slumber in his tower.
“Sorry, Cheese,” I said sheepishly as he scooted over and snuggled up on my feet.
“You think I should message this guy, right? He looks so wholesome.”
Cheese chittered at me before finding that perfect space on a chair to curl up and fall back to sleep in.
Agreeing with my sleepy friend, I sent a quick message to the man and left the app. I had more pressing matters to focus on. This double date from hell was going to be the death of me.
I sighed, getting up and rifling through my closet for a decent outfit for this date. I tried to ignore the fact that I picked whatI knew Jinx would love. It was a sheer, colored, backless lace dress. It screamed night out at the club, not a fancy restaurant.
My reflection was taunting me. My tits almost popped out of the top of the dress. The contrast between my tanned skin and the milky cream color of the dress looked pretty. I didn’t know makeup, but stabbing myself in the eye a few times was worth getting some basic mascara on. Afterward, I looked like a woman on a date. I picked up my phone and went to send a message to Gianna.
A message flashed on my phone screen.
An unknown number.
That video of my panties wrapped around a thick cock made my breath catch in my throat.
The stranger…
I went to block the number, and another message popped up that I couldn’t look away from.
I hesitantly let the video play.
This one was so different from the start. It was quiet. There was a strange warbling sound as footsteps walked forward toward the camera. That same gloved hand reached and pulled something up from out of view.
A hand!
The fingertips were painted the same colors as his face paint. It was cleanly severed from the wrist and looked like it hadn’t been detached long. There was still a blush to the skin tone.
The stranger drew closer to the camera, his gloved hand gripping the hand into his fist, making the severed woman’s hand into a gesture that he brought to his lips.
“Shhh.” His mouth was spread wide into a smile before the image faded to black.
