Christmas, Bloody Christmas

do away with his presence. Our days and nights fell into a normal routine, he had conformed to my rules and expectations. I’d come to realize that honesty, open and brutal, were comforting to my boy. He accepted the deranged and mundane in equal measures. My work in both my lives had become just a part of the landscape that we’d created.
We spent most of our time in the city, living in my penthouse, but he’d requested to spend this holiday at the cabin. The same place that I had taken and imprisoned him only a year ago. So much had shifted after my office manager had witnessed me completing a contract. I’d had every intention of playing with him before killing him. I’d become fascinated with him when I’d hired him and hadn’t anticipated the extent until it came time to plan his death.
He was everything I wasn’t, loving and caring, bright and optimistic, and he saw the beauty in everything, even the sociopath who had enslaved him. I awaited the day that he would attempt to escape, coming awake each morning to still find him there seemingly content to rest his head upon my chest as if that’s the only place he wanted to be.
I felt nothing for anyone else in this world, each person merely a breath away from being a victim of my compulsions. Him though, I spoiled in my own way. He accepted the limits of my morality. My job as an assassin was just a fact of life. Only a year had gone by, so I wondered if the excitement of it would wear off and he’d want to leave.
Snow crunched beneath my bare feet as I made my way across the yard to the house. I didn’t feel the pain of the cold on my exposed skin or the snowflakes settling and freezing where they fell on my hair and shoulders. Ascending the steps, I turned to find the undecorated tree in a place of honor in the picture window.
My boy had added touches of home to the house, or what I assumed people added. Pictures graced surfaces and the mantle now, pillows and throw blankets, rugs that brightened a room more than simple practicality. Until him there had existed no clear proof of my existence besides my name on official paperwork and photo ID.
He had strengthened the appearance of my normality to the outside world. I deeply inhaled the frigid air into my nose and exhaled through my mouth, and I entered only partially prepared for what my boy requested.
“Sir, look at you.” He slowly approached me naked with nothing but his cock caged and stopped a few feet away. “I just cleaned the floors.” His voice was disgusted as he turned on his toes and rushed back to the kitchen.
I felt what I thought amusement would be as he returned with a mop and bucket. He quickly cleaned the hardwood floor behind me as I lazily made my way to the kitchen to the small bathroom with a shower stall, Ignoring his softly muttered complaints. I turned on the water and stepped inside without waiting for it to heat. I left the glass stall door open.
“Boy, wash me.”
I took in the pink that still stained his cheeks after all the months together. His shyness had lessened but hadn’t disappeared completely. He set the mop and bucket inside and squeaked as the still cool water flowed down his back as he stepped inside and moved around me. My cock hardened the second he touched me.
“Did you want something special for Christmas, boy,” I asked as he cleaned the blood from my body, his fingers stripped away the remnants of my work.
“Not that I can think of, but I need to go to the mall to get you—”
“Boy, you don’t have to get me presents.”
He finished washing my front. “Turn around, please.” I did as he asked.
I didn’t understand the significance of celebrating and I knew my lack of enthusiasm about the holidays made him sad.
“I know I don’t, I want to.”
I raised my hand and grabbed the hair on his chin and made him look at me. “I’ll take you to the mall, maybe later. I can take you to the diner for dessert.”
I turned my head and tipped my chin to reach his soft lips and kissed him. I sensed his shock before I noticed his eyes were opened wide. I didn’t understand the impulse for spontaneous acts of affection. My boy’s need for contact and praise were great, it still didn’t register why he wanted those things from me. Yet I made the effort because I didn’t care about anyone else in this world except him, and he was worth stepping out of my comfort zone.
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Finish washing me and then I’ll prepare dinner.”
He simply nodded. Although, I noticed he pushed in closer to my side. I slipped my arm around his waist for a quick embrace. He gave up so much for the monster I am; settled for the scraps of what sentiment I could spare. I didn’t understand the emotions I had pertaining to him, but while his pain and submission sustained me, he deserved the moments of affection I could offer.

2
Harrison
“You said I could go,” I complained as I stood beside Cowen outside the entrance to the mall.
“And like always, I said I would accompany you, but I wouldn’t enjoy it.” He sounded snobbish when he talked. It was the same thing he said when I had him take me to the diner or a movie.
I hid my snort as he nudged me forward with a hand on my lower back and the automatic doors parted. Excitement filled me as Christmas music echoed in the building. So many scents hit me, peppermint and pumpkin spice, pine as we passed a candle shop. The list I’d made for Sir hidden away in my pocket
When he hadn’t demanded to know what was on the