75

I spent all night with Jason. Watching him scream. Curse. Plead. Watching his own drug torture him. During some part of the night, I started feeling pity for him, but just as soon as the feeling lit up, Rosy's face in crisis came clear to my mind.

The fire of pity quenched as soon as it started.

At first, he'd kept screaming for a woman to fuck, thinking I was gonna give him one. That wasn't the way the plan was supposed to work. I told him about the recorders I came with and that he'd make a record of confessing everything he did. The best kind of evidence was a confession that comes straight out of the mouth of the culprit.

“Screw you!” he'd shouted those first times, refusing to do it.

I expected it. I had nothing else to do, so I just waited him out.

As the night lengthened, he went from screaming and cussing, to begging and pleading. His hands were tied behind his back so he couldn't jack off. He fucked thin air repeatedly, but he couldn't get relief. His hips were thrusting up