Heartbreakers V

Hipster Intelligence Agency

Dum-dum. Dum-dum. I’m playing the two lowest notes on the piano. Get it? The Jaws theme. I’m just being an ass.

Dum-dum. Dum-dum. Little Miss Fuck and Run is looking at me. I couldn’t tell you if she was trying to smile or not, because of the ball gag and tape, but her eyes were twinkling. The piano is one of those short upright numbers, like something out of some honky-tonk somewhere, and Little Miss Fuck and Run is sort of leaned over the back, each hand tied with a few feet of rope to the piano legs at the front. She’s standing, supporting her weight on her legs, but a bit off balance, sometimes resting her chest on the top. I’m in front of the piano, playing around. I lean down and kiss her forehead.

“Little, this is going to hurt me more than it’s going to hurt…

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