Penny
Adrian was wrong.
He could never take that pleasure away from me. Because no matter what he did, how much he made me hurt, my brain was broken. Synapses warped. Wired crossed and damaged. Because yes, it hurt; the rip of skin and pull of the ropes made my eyes water and my throat constrict, but… it wasn’t all negative.
The stabbing pain in my pussy mixed with the growing ache in my gut as I swung there for him. It rippled through my thighs and down to my numbing toes. I craved more of the intensity, the sensation, like I’d been conditioned for it.
Adrian’s eyes were unabashed and hungry as he took in my exposed body. Excitement played with me, ondisplay, watching this man with all his plans coming together. This was all so elaborate, so all for me. Despite being more confined than ever, it was freeing, defining. I’d hurt Adrian, a man, so much he had to do this to gain even a modicum of relief.
I smiled at him.
He had the power to do whatever the hell he wanted to me; I was here and engaged for all of it, swinging between letting my mind drift and locking in. Every step of my death, which he planned to deliver, brought a sense of solace, of joy. My body was a hard one to live in, full of rotting thoughts and crippling desires I couldn’t manage.
Joy. There would be joy at the end.
Adrian scowled at my smile, so I spread it wider, cold and vicious, knowing he’d failed in his primary goal. I wasn’t afraid of him, of this, of whatever plans he had for me. It turned me on.
I had him.
His attention, his entire soul. The planning, the years it must have taken him. All the money and plotting. This was a death orchestrated for me, and I would enjoy it.
He wanted to feel good about hurting me? About bringing me pain while I cried and begged? Well, he was about to be disappointed if he expected me scared, pleading with him for my life. He could have it.
“Again,” I whispered, though it had been so long now the moment had passed. “More.”
“More?” he asked, anger flickering over his face with confusion. His fingers were still coated in my blood, licked clean but not very well, drying red flaked his fingernails.
“More. Plunge those fingers inside me, fuck me hard, ruin me, CO Darling, because this.” I shook my body, making the ropes swing. “This won’t do it. You can’t ruin me this way.”I’m already ruined, is what I wanted to add, but I stopped myself.
Truth was, I was almost curious to see if he could bring anything new out in me. I don’t know when that ticked over for good, but it had, sometime between rape and murder, any empathy I had for others just… withered.
Adrian’s nostrils flared with anger as he took in my words, my lack of care, and he turned, storming away across the stage, leaving me there, swinging, lookingout at the empty audience. Dusty red velvet seats, ornate carvings on the walls, and the double doors at the end of the middle aisle. Poor lighting, dim over the chairs, bright yellow over me.
Adrian seemed unfocused, despite all his planning. Rookie error, maybe, not just going for me. Dithering, not having tools laid out, it irritated me. Made me impatient.
I lost my way with his brother, and it was my ruin. That was the end of my personal mission in life to wipe the world free of rapists, of bad men.
Adrian had too many ideas and no clear way of executing them. I laughed, swung the ropes a little even when the metal knobs dug into my skull, and pretended I was in a park, that there was a breeze in my hair and children laughing nearby. Maybe some ice cream was melting on the ground with a swarm of lazy bees and angry wasps picking at the sugar. I hadn’t lived like that in a long time.
It would be so easy to drift…
Heavy metal music interrupted me, snapping me back to my precarious reality. I blinkered on, lookingaround for Adrian, for a sign of his focus, of what might be to come for me now.
The theater wasn’t big, maybe sixty seats or so of faded velvet, with a narrow, steep balcony raised up in the shadows.
What I could see of the stage was cluttered: tables of half-finished projects, stacks of props, and fabrics everywhere. The rope contraption I was caught up in wasn’t that secure, and as I swung myself, I turned, allowing me a full scope out of the weird ass place I’d found myself.
And with the first tug from above on my arm, I wished I could look up. Where was he?
“Adrian?” I yelled, straining my eyes to spot him, probably up there in the rafters fiddling with his ropes and gadgets. This whole thing was rigged up for me.
Made me feel special.
“Adrian!” I called again, teasing. “Say something!”
The music echoed through the space, so unless he shouted, I would hear nothing, but I liked the idea of annoying him anyway. An angry, screaming voice bounced around in my head, flooding my ears, the cavities in my skull. Pounding and rough. Beautiful.
Adrian yanked the rope on my wrist until my uninjured arm stretched suspended above my head, then the second one started to lift. Almost too much, leaving me cackling and straining. He was manipulating my body, moving me around like I was his prop.
