Hoffman stormed out of the 'medical room', his eyes blazing. He caught sight of Michelle and moved towards her, his anger finally overtaking him. The little bitch

"Mark, just leave it. She ain't worth it." Amanda sighed as she walked into the room and saw Hoffman standing over Michelle, who was cowering on the floor. "Besides, you'll get into more trouble with John than you need right now..." Hoffman looked mutinous, but he backed away slowly from Michelle, still glaring at her as she struggled up whimpering.

Honestly, Amanda couldn't help thinking. What a cry baby. He turned round to face her and she kept her face calm, expressionless. "A life without fucking," She smirked, shaking her head slowly. "How will you be able to live without it?" Hoffman smashed her against the wall, eyes blazing. Amanda's lips twitched a little – she knew she'd hit a nerve – but she had to admit even she was slightly scared when Hoffman was like this. But hey, she just adored winding him up and watching him go mad as hell. "John." She warned him laughingly, and he slowly released his grip on her. Michelle whimpered again, and knowing exactly what would happen if John burst in on the situation, Hoffman walked quickly out of the room.

"I'd chuck all the magazines out to, Hoffman!" Amanda called after him. He froze. "Oh come on, we all know you have some stack of topless women hidden under your mattress. Teenage boys I can expect that from, but detectives..." She cackled at Hoffman's look of cold fury, and he marched furiously out of the room before he did some serious harm to her.

He went through his ROOM?! For God's sake, he wasn't a fucking child. Then again, the magazines must've proved that...Hoffman swore and punched the wall, then swore again as his knuckles were bashed to pieces by the impact.

So he didn't have any privacy any more. What next, motherfucking cameras? Hoffman paused and shuddered. Knowing John, that was exactly the kind of thing he would do.

Walking into his room, he noted that the lock had been taken off the door and he seethed. Lousy fucking John...

He also noticed the magazines had been put right in the middle of his bed. He sighed, calming down slightly.

Well, this was the closest he was going to get to any contact with women ever again – apart from Amanda and Michelle, and they hardly counted. Hoffman knew John, and he knew that John wouldn't let him out of his sight until forever. It was kind of like being grounded on a permanent basis, only he was being taken straight from work instead of school.

He bridled at the whole thing; he wasn't a child...

But then, he had raped Michelle. He didn't exactly regret that – he had been so glad when she'd broken into so many pieces; he hated her and still did – yet somehow...

Hoffman sighed again and rolled those thoughts out of his head. What had been done – no matter what he thought of it – was done, and he had no idea in hell about how to deal with the consequences of his actions.

He had no fucking idea how monks coped without...well, fucking.

At that point he decided to never think or say the word 'fuck' again – it would simply torment him – but of course his mind started a repeated mantra of 'fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck fuck' and he groaned inwardly.

This was probably going to kill him.

He reached down and began shovelling the magazines into the waste chute.

This was going to kill him, but somehow he was going to live with the consequences of his actions.


Someone has got to feel sorry for a Hoffman right now...what, not even a teeny tiny bit...? Ah well...

IT'S GOING TO SNOW TONIGHT!!! As you can tell, I'm excited...my lifelong dream is to build an igloo LOL

Has anyone else ever wanted to build an igloo? Please answer in your comment!