Lee makes a mock salute and I stare at him, not blinking, until he lowers his arm.
‘Take off your clothes,’ I say, as I get the rope out of my bag and start to make the knot. He does as I say, having some difficulty with his boots as predicted. While he fumbles, I finish the knot and check it for security. With a smaller rope, I loosely tie up his hands, so that he’ll have a false sense of security and assume that the knots could be easily relaxed. ‘Stand on the chair and let me have a proper look at you.’ He’s clicked into the role he wants to play now and becomes immediately obedient. I stuff the knotted rope into his mouth and walk around him, noticing the large cobweb tattoo over one bicep. Seeing initials on the side of his arm – KA. His mother. If my mother would be horrified to see me now, I can only imagine how Kathleen would feel. His buttocks are surprisingly firm, I see, with deep tan lines he could only have developed from frequent tanning beds. I force myself to look at his penis, raised as it is in anticipation. To have avoided it would have looked weak. I take the rope out of his mouth and shove it into his hands. ‘Safe word?’
He grins again, and tells me that he rather likes saying ‘Barbados’， which is fine, since I won’t be respecting any word he’s chosen. ‘You could charge for this. You’re not the full-on model experience but you’re thorough,’ he says, looking up at me. I ignore him and put the noose over his head.
‘I’m going to tie you up to this hook, and you’re going to jerk yourself off as it gets tighter. I’ll control the level, and I’m going to watch you getting closer and closer. You’re going to squirm and wriggle but you’re going to carry on. Don’t waste my time with anything less than the full show. And when you’ve finished, it’s my turn.’
I place the end of the rope around the hook and complete another knot, allowing myself a moment of pride in my craftsmanship. I hold the ends of the ropes in my hand and begin to tighten the noose by pulling on them gently. Lee begins to stroke himself, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. I pull harder, and his eyes fly open, but I urge him on with a rough bark. I keep my hand steady and let him get accustomed to the pressure, as his neck bulges slightly and his face grows redder under the perma tan. After thirty seconds, he’s groaning as I tell him to go harder. And then, as I lean closely towards his flushed face, I kick the stool out from under his feet. He drops suddenly, and I let go of the rope. My knot holds, and Lee starts to lash out with his feet, writhing and twisting so much that I have to move away fast. His hands are grabbing his neck, clawing at the rope, but I move behind him and pull them down hard. Important not to leave marks. It doesn’t take long, you know. Fast but agonising – for him but also for me as I check the door every few seconds. His eyes look like they’re almost popping out of his head, and his tongue is hanging swollen between his lips as he desperately tries to get air. I think for a second about telling him who I am, but I can’t be bothered. I’ve never cared about Lee. Killing him is a means to a bigger end and he doesn’t warrant an explanation. Within forty seconds he’s unconscious and then he’s dead. Looking at my watch, I see the whole thing has taken less than four minutes, as Deirdre the first aider in Peckham had so obligingly disclosed. Ta da! Fairly disgusting man dies in a fairly disgusting way. Hardly momentous. Except for him, I suppose.
Once I’m sure he’s dead, I get moving fast. Had someone walked in during our little game, I could’ve told them that this was a couple’s room and they’d have left no problem. But this would be harder to explain. I untie his hands and wipe them down with antibacterial wipes. I move the stool a tiny bit closer so that it would appear he’d knocked it over himself and I pack up my stuff carefully, leaving only the rope around his neck. I’d only handled that with gloves, and he’d held it for a minute so hopefully that would be enough. I put my bag over my shoulder and take one last look at the figure behind me, hanging still now. Shame they didn’t let you take phones in here, a last photo to remember Uncle Lee might’ve been nice. Not one to frame though – he looks pretty grotesque. I shut the door behind me, and walk down the corridor, where people are congregating, kissing, flirting. A tall man wearing an animal mask leans against the wall and looks me up and down as I pass him, reaching out for my hand and lightly brushing my fingers. I don’t stop walking, wondering which horny stranger will find him. Would it be that girl in the assless trousers, or perhaps the couple in cheap masquerade masks who both could’ve put in a few more hours at the gym before wearing such unforgiving latex? It’s up to the gods now, but I fervently hope that whoever it was had the foresight to go to the tabloids. Hat firmly on, I go back to the cloakroom where I retrieve my phone and head out into the night.