Victoria is a true masterpiece, and a joy to behold, Albert thought as he slowly, silently moved towards her
Look at her, so peaceful in her sleep, so blissfully unaware of her impending doom, Albert thought, she is a rather beautiful woman, isn’t she? Take in that flawless skin, those powder blue eyes, that long, slender, straight nose and those perfect teeth. Bask in her dazzling smile, and the inert dignity. Her beauty, if anything, is enhanced in repose.
Albert inched closer to her, breathing in her perfume as it gently wafted towards him on the afternoon breeze.
Most people can only stare in awe and incomprehension at a masterpiece. For many, their hearts swell as they look on such a perfect creation — manmade or otherwise.
But there are a few to whom such perfection is abhorrent. They take an almost orgasmic delight in destroying a masterpiece, and I’m glad to count myself among their ranks, Albert thought as he — rather clumsily — straddled the sleeping woman.
Licking his lips with anticipation, Albert slipped his hands around Victoria’s throat.
Can there be a greater feeling than holding, quite literally, someone’s very life in your hands? Is there is a greater thrill than feeling the gentle throb of a person’s pulse in your palms, knowing that you make it stop by exerting a certain degree of pressure around her throat? Knowing that you can choke off the blood flow, watch their face turn purple as they struggle for air, and smile as life leaves their eyes…
Oh, just the thought of it makes me break out in gooseflesh!
Albert slowly stroked her perfect throat. He then began to choke her, very gently, when she snapped her eyes open and looked into his very soul.
“You know what Albert did when I was napping earlier today?” Victoria Sutter said to her husband when he returned from work that day.
“He was trying to give me a hug!”
John Sutter smiled at his 14-month-old son.
“Well, looks like we’ll need to buy a playpen.”