Predator

I sit across the table from you, tolerating your idle small talk, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at your pathetic, not quite subtle enough attempts to get into my pants.  Dinner, while delicious, can't be over quickly enough.  I've always hated this part, pretending to be interested, leading them on just enough to keep them oblivious.  The check comes, the server places it on the table.  I arch an eyebrow at you, and you gleefully pick up the tab, thinking that you're buying your ticket.  We get up from the table, and walk back toward your car.  You take my  hand, and I  tolerate it, shooting you a wicked glare that you fail to notice.  We get to the car, and you open the door for me.  With a sigh, I  get into the car, letting out an impatient huff as you walk to your side.  Once in, you turn and say "So, back to my place?"  I smile the first genuine smile of the night as i agree, finally looking forward to what's to come.

We get to my place, and sit down on the couch, looking for a movie on Netflix.  You pat the seat next to you, and with a half-knowing smile I  approach the couch.  Rather than sitting next to you, I sit on the far end of the couch, kick off my  shoes, and drop my  feet roughly into your lap.  I  simply look at you until you get the hint, and you take my  feet into your hands and begin to massage.  You're good at it, very good.  "Mmmm" I  exhale, "I might just have to keep YOU".  I lean my  head back, enjoying the foot massage.  Before long, my  sighs and exhalations lead you to believe you can take it a step forward.  You begin to slide your hand up my  leg, and lean in for a kiss.

My eyes pop open when I  feel your weight shift. I place my  right foot on your chest, pushing you back.  "What are you doing?"  You reply, "I was hoping for a kiss".  My expression changes, from one of enjoyment to one of...not anger, but aggression.  "Oh, you want a kiss?  Fine."  I  stick my  left foot in your face.  "Kiss"  Still oblivious to the danger, You begin placing little pecks on the top of my foot, near my toes.  You kiss your way up my  foot toward my ankle.  "Did I say you could do that?"  

"What?  I just..." your reply is cut off by my  full armed slap, which sends your glasses flying across the room.  You shout "What the fuck are you doing you bit..."  Cut off again, this time by my right foot flying out like a piston between your legs, slamming into your balls and knocking the wind out of you. While you're recovering, I stand up, grab you by the hair, and fling you to the floor.  I shove you onto your back, and use my knees to pin down your shoulders.  Reaching into my bag, I  pull out a pair of handcuffs and cuff you to the couch.  You come to your senses and realize you're  bound, look at me and say "You can't do this!"  Another slap to be sure I have your attention, and my foot on your balls to drive the point home as I look directly into your eyes.  "I can do whatever I want.  If you haven't figured that out by now, you will soon."  You open your mouth to shout, but a little extra pressure on your balls closes it.  "Scream once, and I destroy them". You look at me , uncertain, wary of what's to come.