Chapter 3: At A Crossroads
I cocked my head to the side as I felt the body under me starting to turn cold. The cock that was once pressing into me was now completely flaccid. A useless piece of flesh if you asked me.
Then again, no one ever did.
"I don't like to make decisions," I whined, and it was true. Nothing stressed me out more than having to decide something. I think it was because I hadn't ever really done it in my life.
Père told me what to eat, what to cook, what to wear, when to shower, when to use the bathroom, and even when to breathe.
It wasn't until then that it hit me... the consequences of my actions.
With Père gone... who was going to tell me what to do?
Letting out a low whine, I shook Père, trying to get him to wake up.
"I'm sorry," I whispered to the dead body under me; I rubbed my face against his whiskers like he used to enjoy. "I'm sorry."
"Mon ange," grunted the first voice from behind me. "You know he deserved this and more. He wasn't a good man."