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Published by Dwayne Albert Bearup at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 Dwayne Albert Bearup


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Following Mary’s third escape attempt, I removed her left hand. She was a righty and I felt she would adjust. When this loss didn’t sap her desire to be free of me, I removed her feet… each in its turn.

After her recovery from these operations, I would have expected her to be more submissive and docile. Instead, she tried to kill me with a piece of broken mirror from the medicine chest. Feisty. It was the reason I had chosen her in the first place, but attempted murder was the last straw and I took her last extremity that very night.

I shouldn’t have… with no hands she could not feed or clean herself, and the nature of our relationship permits no outsiders, not even a nurse. I did not wish to be bothered with such trivialities myself, but what was I to do? The pleasure I derived from her presence was lost if I could not stand the smell or taste of her.

I could have started over, found a new and more trainable girl, but the waste of three years of effort on my part was not to be considered. It would have been an admission of defeat.

Besides, Mary was still fun. Even her continued efforts at resistance were entertaining, for a time. Then I found it necessary to beat her nearly unconscious to gain any pleasure from her at all. And that was not fun… I’m not a sadist, after all.

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