Mackenzie unlocked her apartment door and felt the weight of the world shift off her shoulders.

She was home: the outside universe could not interfere. Responsibility meant nothing in the space she called her own.

A weeks worth of stress melted  away as she stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind. Her mind was on the box...

She hung her keys on the same old hook, her jacket on another. Fingertips brushed against the soft wooden edges of the coat-rack, and she remembered how Jason made it by hand to impress her. 

Impress her he did, and a few projects later Mackenzie decided he was too good to ever let go.

She flicked on the lights, set down her bag, and walked down the hallway to her bedroom. Quick fingers undid the buttons of her blouse as she stepped into her room.

She tossed her top away carelessly, unlaced her shoes, and let her pants fall to the ground with delicacy. She'd been waiting all week. Now was the time. 

Mackenzie fell onto her bed and lost herself in its familiar luxurience. She stretched, yawned, and wiggled around... happy to be away from work; hidden from the world. 

She could have fallen asleep right then, but a rumble from her belly and an ache down below reminded her of the box.

With a sighing moan Kenzie rolled over on cool satin sheets and forced herself to rise. The crisp, conditioned air caressed her form as she entered the kitchen: open windows suddenly reminded her that she was nude and anyone could watch.

 "Let them." she mused as she opened a cabinet and took out a glass.She reached for the shelf and took down some gin: the refrigerator offered up an olive. She poured them over ice, shaking the contents, enamoured in the ritual gathering, wondering how each ingrediant would mix down in her stomach.

 "Shake, Pour, Enjoy!" She lifted the drink up to her thirsty lips, drank deep, and decided it needed more olive.

She remembered Jason and how smoothly he slid down...

When the drink was near-perfect Mackenzie set it upon the counter. "Hmmm" she said, biting her naked lip. "It's almost perfect, it just needs a dash of...?"

Bitters? Salt? Fear?

Mackenzie stirred her glass and stroked her womanhood, reflecting on how the answer must be all three.

She reached for the box and popped off the top without effort. Screams of uncertanty and dismay filled her ears. Well-practiced fingers reached in and plucked an unlucky soul from within the box while her other hand slammed the lid shut with sadistic glee. With a deft flick of the wrist she made her wishes known: He belonged in her Martini. 

Naked, at home, and in total control Mackenzie drew a hot bath. The lost soul in her drink was as confused and powerless now as he would be in her stomach. Hot water steamed around Mackenzie as she relaxed and forgot about work and the world around.

She moved her toes in slow, rythmic motions: wriggling, taunting and free! With a gush, a sigh and a splash, she lowered her whole body into hot water... Ecstacy!  She swished her martini and heard his sobs as she lowered herself down in the steaming bath.

It didn't matter that he was innocent.  That made it better somehow!

Kenzie settled into the warm bath-water, drew the box closer, and smiled at the man in her glass. 

"I guess this is Hello. Sorry it has to begin this way, but you're excactly what I need."

The lost soul resisted frantically. 

"Struggle, please, yes, I like it!"

He looked at her in awe and confusion. Mackenzie raised her glass, set it to her lips, and drank deep. The smooth walls of her throat welcomed him on the way down. He dissapeared inside that sweet mouth never to be seen again. 

Kenzie settled deeper into the bath, one hand reaching for the box, the other plunging further...