Page 30 of Dirty Tricks

“Ahh,” he faux screams, wriggling his hands and shaking his head. “Let me out. I’ll be good if you just let me out.”

“Heads up, Nate,” a boy yells and the one in the pillory glances over just in time to get a foam tomato smack in his face.

“Oh,” he yelps in surprise. “Don’t throw them that hard.”

“You should be grateful we’re throwing the foam ones,” his friend counters. “You think I didn’t see you making a move on Valerie after I specifically called dibs?”

Another foam fruit hits him, bouncing harmlessly away while the restrained boy collapses in hysterical laughter, struggling to raise the beam, then dancing out of reach. “She’s going out with Morgan, you dick. Dibs hardly count.”

He bats the next foam vegetable away, then runs to gather up those already thrown, pelting them back at his friend until both their aim is ruined with laughter.

“Get in there, Todd,” Finn says, jerking his head at the contraption. “Pretend you’re a thief. It shouldn’t be too much of a stretch.”

There’s something tangled in his words but I’m just glad to move past my earlier awkwardness. Of course, he didn’t hear me. Finn doesn’t hear me even when I shout in his face.

I try to find my earlier smile, recreating it with none of the joy, the warmth. When Todd waggles his hands and head in the pillory, I join in with throwing a few of the foam toys, my aim atrocious and my propulsion so weak they wouldn’t hurt even if they hit the target.

Finn stands back, shaking his head, cracking jokes, taking pictures. There’s no longer any sign he overheard my whispered words.

A boy nearby climbs the dangling chains until he reaches the ledge of a high window. He balances on the edge, walking the two metre wide ridge before scampering down the dangling skeleton on the other side, earning himself a forearm and hand for the trouble; a new weapon he immediately turns on Todd’s arse.

The half-moon creeps across the window, illuminating the room past the candles and glowsticks mounted around the walls. It raises my spirits as I stare at it, then jump when Finn grabs me around the waist and spins me in a circle. “Your turn.”

“Oh, I don’t—”

He drags me over to the restraints, levering up the beam to release Todd, cackling when he nearly trips over the foam toys scattered around. “You’ve been convicted of lewd acts,” he says, then chortles like a maniac. “Into the stocks.”

I rest my neck and wrists on the carved base beam, smiling nervously as he lowers the top down, trapping me there. When I try to pull my hands out, they don’t budge, even though I’m far tinier than the occupants so far. My head can’t move either, the top beam hitting against a knobby bit of my spine.

“Doesn’t she look good?” Finn asks Todd who comes over to stand beside his friend, putting an arm around his shoulders while they purse their lips and stare at me. “What’d you reckon, fellas?”

He throws the question out to the group and the other lads stop experimenting with the devices on offer, gathering in a semi-circle while my temples pinch with unease.

I try to lift the top beam with my neck, but it’s stuck fast. When I swivel my head to the side, I see why. Unlike when the other students tried it, a bronze band has been slid into place, holding the two boards together.

Panic grips me, squeezing all the air from my lungs, making my eyes bulge and my pulse race with adrenaline.

“Aren’t you taking a picture?” I ask, trying for normality. Still trying to convince myself this is a photo opportunity. Not an elaborate trap.

Then Finn squats in front of me, eyes level as he cups my cheek, running his thumb along the rise of my cheekbone. “You want to break up with me?”

Every bit of me freezes. I can’t function. Can’t breathe. Can’t talk. Can’t blink.

“Guess she’s a single lady again,” he calls to the room, and the gathered boys greet it with jocularity while dark spots dance in my vision and my ears buzz with static. “Anyone have ideas of what to do with her?”

“I know a way she can get you over your breakup,” Todd says with a laugh, reaching for his zipper and undoing it, the metal teeth unlocking as his erect cock strains for release. “You want to take turns or is it all hands on deck?”

“No,” I say, the word barely forming between my stiff vocal cords and my lack of air. “No.”

And Finn pretends not to hear me like he always does, except for the whisper on the one occasion I didn’t want him to listen.

And that twists the knife. Brings my fury bubbling to the surface.

“No!” I scream, then scream again, and again, until I run out of breath, then again as soon as I can. As soon as I gulp sufficient air into my lungs.

“Let me out of these fucking things,” I shout when my shrieked repetition fails. My wrists tug until they wear red bracelets of chafed skin, my skull protesting as it whacks against the unrelenting solidity of my wooden restraints. “Let me go.”

Finn moves away from me and there’s a tiny bud of hope, but he’s just fetching a stepping stool, positioning it in front of me. Once he climbs on that, his crotch will be at my head height.

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