Page 6 of Damaged
Yeah sure…I know I’m pushing his buttons. I know the angrier he gets, the more off balance he becomes, and with thatthe harsher the punishment will be, but I’m also a masochist with a high pain tolerance. So it’s a win-win for me.
He chuckles darkly in my ear as he sits up. He doesn’t remove his hold on my neck, but I feel him shifting around on top of me, pulling something out of one of his pockets. I hate not seeing what’s going on behind me. I’m not one of those girls who enjoy surprises.
Snick.
The sound of a switchblade is heard and the flat part of the cold blade is brought to my cheek with the tip just below the edge of my eye. I don’t flinch or show any emotion at all because that’s what this sick fuck is looking for. He wants me scared and afraid. Shaking and begging for mercy.
Like that’s ever going to fucking happen.
I try focusing on him from the corner of my eye. But the way he’s holding my head, it’s difficult.
“Since you wanted to do this the hard way, you’re going to lie here while I cut every last piece of your clothing from your body. And if you move, I have no problem cutting you as well.”
He begins cutting my shirt off me, forcefully. The cuts seem to be haphazard until he grabs an edge and begins ripping them. The cold air makes me shiver with goose flesh, and the coldness of the cement floor is starting to seep under my clothes. They always keep these rooms so cold. Personally, I think it’s another form of torture. They say it’s something about keeping the germs away.
Bullshit.
After my shirt is cut and ripped to shreds, he shifts his weight again. The sounds of rustling and the moving of objects around on the metal table next to us are heard.
Oh great. I guess the fun begins.
With extreme force and no regard for anything, he flips me over, still underneath the weight of him. I try fighting back,hitting him as best I can, but he is a bit larger than me, so after placing the blade between his teeth, he grabs both of my flailing arms.
Bringing them together in one of his large hands, he wraps some kind of bandage tape around my joined wrists, even through my struggling. He’s wrapped them so tight, there’s no way of getting out of them in this position, plus bonus points for him, it’s cutting the circulation to my hands.
“Fucking asshole,” I yell, still trying to wiggle out from under him.
He stands up, looking down at me with a devious smile. He looks downright evil with his knife being held between his teeth. Reaching up, he casually removes the blade from his mouth as he clicks his tongue. “If I didn’t love your screams so much, I would tape your mouth shut. Good thing this room is soundproof, huh?” he finishes, looking around the room.
Reaching down, he yanks me up from the floor by my bound hands, making me yelp. He pulls me over to the wall with the shackles and lifts my hands up. He presses his thigh between my legs, rubbing on the apex at my center. I try squeezing my thighs closed, but it’s no use. He chuckles deeply in his chest as he presses his entire body against mine, and I fucking hate that my body reacts to his efforts. My nipples harden, and from his pants pressing into my center, I’m getting wet.
Using the iron manacle in the center at the top of the wall, he secures my tied hands, forcing me on my toes.
I try to kick out, but my knee only connects to his outer thigh with absolutely no strength behind it because of the position he has me in. He strikes out, slapping me hard across the face, forcing my head to the side. The sound of the hit reverberates around the room as the pain explodes behind my eyes, making my head throb and my eyes water. My eyes close, trying to settle my racing heart.
“Save your energy, bitch. You’re gonna need it,” he says. Opening my eyes, I glare daggers at him from under my lashes. I want to wipe that fucking smirk off his face so bad.
I look up at where my hands are locked and I know with my hands tied, there is nothing I can do at this point. So instead of focusing on my current predicament, I start planning in my head, imagining exactly what I will do to him once I’m free.
How I will pull him apart…piece by fucking piece. Limb by fucking limb.
Slow.
Methodical.
Calculated.
Oh, but so much fun!
The asshole takes a step back, looking me up and down with that insidious smirk darkening his face. I’m trussed up against the wall with my hands over my head with no shirt on, my breasts out for him to see with my nipples peaked. They wouldn’t let me keep my bra when I came in, since it had an underwire. They thought I could use that part as a weapon.
And I definitely would have.
Especially with this shithead.
The loose thin cotton pants I have on hang low on my hips slightly showing the white state-issued underwear I am currently wearing. I feel a shiver wrack my entire body from the cold. My nipples are so tight they hurt, making me wish I was actually with someone I liked. Someone I could enjoy this current situation with.
My head immediately drifts to Ethan, knowing how much he always enjoyed sucking on my tits and playing with the piercings I had before coming to this hellhole.
