There’s not much I want to do, but one thing that would give me a kick is to take her into the bathroom and make her whisper Candyman five times before the mirror above the sink. Holding her arms behind her back, I’d force her to stay there until he came to get her, and then I’d run as fast as I could leaving her to face her demons. Quite cowardly I’m sure you’d agree, and yet there’s something about seeing her afraid that sets me on edge. Is it perverse? Yes, I’m sure it is, but it’s more to do with wanting her not to be afraid anymore. They say you should face your fears, and although I won’t face my own, she needs to confront hers. It would do her good to peek into the shadows. With tears rolling down her cheeks, it would also make me ever so slightly hard. It makes me hard whenever I tickle her and she screams for me to stop, so I stop, only then I tickle her feet until she’s on the verge of wetting herself. I can be a gentleman when I like; a real smooth lover, but it gets boring. Being nice is alright, but exploring your dark half tastes that much sweeter. Going deep within; searching the unknown realms of the human psyche- this is fine dining. With one arm around her waist and the other used to grab a handful of her hair, the more she sees, the better. The more I can get her to run from me only to beg for my embrace seconds later, the more our love will grow. And so I whisper into her ear what it will be like for her to one day breathe her last breath- for her to close her eyes and to feel the cold hand of fate wrap itself around her until there’s nothing left but fragments of memory in other people’s minds. Looking at herself in the mirror as the words drip from my mouth, she flinches at my touch, but deep down she understands my intentions. Together we chase each other. Together we play a game. Sometimes it’s heavenly. And sometimes it’s hell.