Contrary to what you think, mi amor, I do not think I am above the law. In this place, in my world, I am the law. Judge, jury and executioner so to speak. I decide what is a crime and what is not. I decide the punishment and I dole it out as needed. This is not something I am particularly proud of, nor do I enjoy the process. However, it has to be done and there is no one better than me to do it. You might say that I am cruel, callous - cold-hearted even. I do not see this.

I say if you can't do the time, don't even think about doing the fucking crime. I should not be responsible for your actions. You are a grown man…one would think that somewhere along the way, you would have learned to behave properly. But, alas, you obviously have not. It is my job - no, my duty - to right your wrongs, to set them straight, teach you a lesson, however you wish to look at it.

I have found, in my experience in dealing with my lovers that they are nothing more than overgrown children. In fact, they are worse than children - at least little ones can be taught, molded, and in some small measure, controlled. Man, in all of his infinite wisdom, thinks that he is in control of the world, therefore he needs no one to tell him that he is wrong, that he needs to learn, that he is not perfect.

Which brings me to my original point - I have made it my mission in life to teach this poor, misguided beast that he is not perfect, he is wrong more often than right, and that now he must atone for his sins against my rules. If survival is a man's basic instinct, then why does he continually behave in a manner that is not conducive to his survival? This might possibly be the greatest mystery of all time, and it is one that I am hell-bent on solving.

You never understood any of this, which is probably why you are in your current position. Your long arms are tethered to the headboard of my bed, your legs strapped down to the posts at the opposite end. You protested earlier when I shoved the large egg shaped plug up your ass, so I had to gag you as well. I hate doing this - not only because I can't take advantage of that talented tongue of yours, but also because I can't hear you scream.

You look at me with hurt, anger, shock and surprise in your eyes, as if you are not aware of why I am doing this to you. You act as if you were the one who was wronged, not I. But, wronged I was. And I told you from the very beginning that once I made you mine, you would remain that way forever, until I decided that I no longer wanted you. That's my problem now - you have put me in a position where I have to question my feelings for you. The crack of my whip reminds you of the disdain I have for the sin you committed, the lies you've told, the man you fucked.

Had it been anyone else, I might have forgiven you more easily. But, you, in all your arrogance, decided that you could get away with the late night visits to your old lover and I would never be the wiser. Did you honestly think I would not find out about it, simply because I was out recovering from an injury? I told you more than once that I would always find out, that there would be no keeping secrets from me.

And do you know who told me about your little trysts while I was gone? Do you have any clue who betrayed you in such a manner? Obviously not, since he is still considered one of your best friends here. He is such an adorable little thing, isn't he? No one would suspect the things that lie dormant under those beautiful green eyes of his. He has a darkness all his own.

You brought that darkness to light, though, and you don't even realize it. See, the man you had in your bed while I was gone belongs to him. And now that the two of you have broken the trust we placed with you, it's time for us to exact our revenge against both of you. I remind you of this, that your lover is most likely in the same predicament as you at this very moment.

Anger flashes in your eyes at the thought of him being beaten and abused like this. You've grown protective of him and his feelings, and yet have shown no remorse for the damage you caused to mine. You insolent little prick. At this moment, I know what hatred and loathing are, because those are the only feelings I have for you. Watching your skin crack and bruise under the lashing of leather and steel brings a smile to my face.

Who would have thought that we would come to this? I surely never did. I believed you when you said you loved me above all others. I believed you when you said that we were forever. And I damn sure believed you when you said that you would be faithful and true. Well, I guess that I have become the fool here. But no longer, my love.

You're struggling again. The screams from the other end of the house are fueling your fire, I suppose. I smile as I wonder what mi poco muchacho is doing to your lover to cause such agonizingly sweet sounds to come from his traitorous lips. I thought you were my lover; I thought he was my friend. But now I know, you were just two serpientes en la hierba - snakes in the grass.

Are those tears in your eyes? God, how pathetic you've become. I wonder for a moment if you are crying for yourself or your lover? I wouldn't be wasting my time or my tears on him at the moment, mi amor. I would be much more concerned with what is about to happen to myself. Then again, you were never very smart, were you? My body becomes electric at the look on your face as I draw the dagger from its hiding place and prick my finger on the tip.

You had asked me before what I had done while I was at home, unable to be with you. You told me every day that you missed me, loved me, couldn't wait to be back in my arms and my bed. I knew even then that you were lying. I can't wait to show you now what I've been doing. I was thinking. You know how dangerous that can be. Because as I was thinking, I was planning. And as I was planning, I was sharpening my baby, hoping I would never have to introduce you to my other love. But, it has become necessary for you to know what I was doing all those lonely nights.

While you had your dick buried to the hilt inside your little playmate, I was preparing my own little party for you. When I bury this inside you, when it has been plunged to the hilt into your solid flesh, I don't think it will be screams of pleasure coming from your mouth, mi amor. Aah, there it is again - a long, pitiful wail coming from the other room. I leave you for a moment, sure that you cannot escape from your bonds.

I carry my dagger down the hallway and peek into the room, smiling at the scene before me. The little one is standing at the end of the bed, his chest heaving from the heavy blows he has just placed on his lover's body. I glance at the walls and notice the splatters of blood there, then look at his lover's face - or what's left of it anyway.

Those beautifully full lips that were probably wrapped around the cock I had claimed as mine were split, blood oozing from the cracks there. One eye is swollen shut, but he looks to me with the other, almost pleading for help. I laugh out loud at that look, and the little one turns to me with tears in his eyes. I walk over and place my arm around his shoulders, offering him a small bit of comfort.

I compliment him on his handiwork and a small smile crosses his face. All he has ever sought was approval, appreciation and a tiny measure of love. But that was stolen from him, and I have vowed to make those who hurt him pay, and pay dearly. When I pull the dagger from behind my back, his captive's one good eye widens in fear. The little one looks at me and I smile, handing over the foot long object and telling him that he may do with it whatever he likes.

He weighs the object in his hand, testing its strength. I stop him before he can slide his finger down the blade. I wouldn't want him in any pain. A slow smile creeps across his angelic face as he walks to the bed and places his hand around his lover's cock. I know the reaction most people would have in that situation and I warn the little one to be careful.

As the tip of the dagger pierces the most sensitive flesh a man has, the little one turns his head, narrowly avoiding the stream of urine that his lover releases as his testicles are separated from his body. I hear the wail of pain and wonder if my lover can hear it too. I know that he can, and I smile, wondering what horrific things he is imagining right now. The little one smiles through his tears as he runs the tip of the blade along the underside of his lover's cock, watching it split into two pieces. Guess he won't be using that any more.

I grab some bandages from the bedside table and wrap them around the open flesh. We wouldn't want him bleeding to death - not yet, anyway. I pour alcohol over the bandages to cauterize the wound and he screams again, passing out from the pain. I kiss the little one's forehead and tell him to be patient, for his lover will awaken soon and he can continue his fun and games.

I leave them and return to you. The smell of his blood is fresh on the dagger and I hear you mumbling behind your gag as I sit on the edge of the bed. I place the dagger across your chest and reach for your cock. Even after everything that has happened, the pain, the fear you have endured, you're still hard as a rock. You disgust me, you know. I am debating what to do to you next when my eyes fall on the small tattoo in the front of your hip.

It is an ornate thing, yet very simplistic in its message. A single letter - my initial - etched forever on your body in ink. Right now, it disgusts me as much as you, so I take the dagger and carve the skin around it, removing it from your body. I toss it into the trashcan next to the bed, knowing I will throw it out with the rest of the garbage. If I could fit you in the trashcan, I would do that as well.

You're struggling more now. I suppose the pain is becoming unbearable. I didn't bring the bottle of alcohol with me from the other room, so I have to find something else to pour on your wound. I look around and spy the bottle of tequila you were drinking earlier and twist open the top, turning the bottle upside down over the gaping hole in your body and allowing the clear liquid to dull your pain momentarily. Your whole body pales at the shock and I find myself smiling again.

I see your cock twitch, an involuntary reaction to the pain, and I squeeze it tightly, watching the head turn a glorious shade of purple, before I slice it off with the dagger. Hmmm, maybe I can fit you into the trashcan after all. I'll just have to do it a piece at a time.

I look up and see the little one standing in the doorway, covered in blood. Your eyes go to him and you gasp in shock. He is exhausted from all his hard work and I reach out my hand for him. He runs the few short steps to the bed and sits next to me, clinging to my arm. "I…I think I killed him," he whispers and I watch your eyes fill with tears. I pat his head as I reply, "Todo será fino, el pequeño."

He smiles and lays his head on my shoulder. He understands. He took the time to learn the language I speak, something you never bothered to do. I hand him the dagger and go to check on his lover, leaving him alone with you. His green eyes look to me, wanting to ask for something, yet afraid that I might say no. I nod silently and he smiles back. I no longer care what happens to you, or who inflicts pain upon you. You are his victim now as well.

I enter the other room at the end of the hall and discover that his lover is indeed dead. Not a big loss to the world, I think as I grab a sheet from the floor and cover his lifeless body. For good measure, I punch his face, totally obliterating the remaining features that the world loved to gaze upon. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say.

When I return to you, the little one is taunting you with the dagger. I see a small group of cuts along your stomach, marring the lines of your perfect abs. Vanity is a sin, you know, one that you are guilty of on more than one occasion. Not much to be vain about now, is there lover? Your pretty smile has faded. Your golden locks lie in circle around your head. I guess the little one found another good use for the dagger while I was gone.

Your wrists are bleeding. I look closely and see that the chains are cutting into your perfect skin. I smile and grab the bottle of tequila again, pouring the remains on your hands and listen to your muffled screams of pain. I could remove the gag and listen to them one last time, but for some reason, this doesn't interest me. My only desire at the moment is to be rid of you forever.

The little one is holding the dagger in his hand, tracing a line down your chest and using his fingers to paint a beautiful design in your blood. His artistic talent amazes me. I was never that creative. I take the dagger from him and carve an 'X' in the center of your chest, watching the tiny droplets of blood appear. It looks like your chest is crying, much like your eyes. You slowly become aware of what is going to happen next and you struggle even more, causing pain to rip through your arms.

You should be grateful to me that I am benevolent enough to end your pain and suffering now. We won't have it quite so easy, mi amor. Pain will be our companion for the rest of our lives. The effects of your betrayal will constantly be with us, and the memory of your face will be permanently etched in my brain, along with the look in your eyes as I place the dagger in the little one's hand and place mine over his. We raise the dagger together, and together we plunge it into your heart, watching the life drain from you.

He looks at me with a mixture of sadness and relief in his eyes. He wipes a few tears away as he whispers, "ya know, I'm really gonna miss 'em." I nod and tell him that I will miss you, too. I pull him into my arms on the floor and tell him to sleep. He asks what will become of you and his lover. I tell him about the canyon not too far from here, where we will take everything and burn it. He thinks about that for a moment, before declaring that the most fitting end.

But, for now, we sleep. Tomorrow is another day, a day in which we will say goodbye. I'll worry about answering questions later, for I know there will be many. Perhaps they ran off somewhere to be together, I'll reply when asked where you might be. I guess your love for him was greater than your love for me, I'll say. There are so many possibilities. But, for now, we will take care of business, and try to get on with our lives. And you, mi amor, will sleep el sueño de los muertos - the sleep of the dead. Adiós, Adam…I will miss you. And I'm sure that in his own way, el pequeño Shannon will miss Matt as well. In my world, I am la ley - executioner del jurado del juez. And you, you are just gone.