Page 10 of Nice

Eyes wide, I toss my head back and forth, ignoring the splintering pain at every motion. Right now, it doesn't matter. What matters is I figure out where the hell I am and how to get out.

Looking around provides no clues. The only things I can see are shadows flickering about from nearly spent candles. Groaning, I pull at my hands and feet, whimpering with every tug. Nothing is coming loose. Fuck! How am I going to get out of this? Tipping my head back, whispered prayers and promises to be good spill from my lips. Maybe someone or something will hear me and help me out of this jam. Either way, I'm never drinking again. That much is certain.

“Should I give her something for the pain, Master?"

The soft murmur reaches my ears from across the room. I crane my neck, trying to bring my ear closer to the sound. Master? What the actual hell? I shake my head again, trying to clear my brain, but it only results in further pain. More tears slide down my cheeks. Gritting my teeth, I try to fight past the discomfort and keep yanking at my bonds. I don't care who the hell has me, I'm not going down without a fight.

"No. Let the pretty thing suffer. I don't want anything to dull her experience."

That dark, gravelly voice pierces through me and sets my body to shivering. He's the one that's going to hurt me! Even knowing this, some part of me craves to hear him speak again. He must have slipped me something. That's the only way to explain why I would be attracted to a man that's going to torture me.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Oooh."

His voice sounds much closer. My body lurches over to get closer to it. I want to run, I want to flee, but my mind and body are at war with each other.

“Sounds like I'm going to have to start the punishment with that pretty little mouth."

I slam my lips shut and suck them into my mouth. I have no clue what he has planned, but he'll have to pry my mouth open to get to them. My teeth dig into the delicate flesh sending skitters of pain into my skull. Fuck. I release the death grip on my lips. Squinting my eyes closed, I force myself to swallow, and breathe. His dark chuckle flows around me and settles to the other side of my head. I twist about as best I can, but still, I see nothing. Is he even real?

"Hiding those luscious lips isn’t going to save you, naughty minx. Now, open for me like a good girl."

A fleeting feeling brushes my cheek. Not solid enough to be a person, but not so ephemeral to be the wind. I shiver again. I shake my head firmly and press my head into whatever I'm lying on, trying to escape him.

“Open." He growls.

Something soft and warm slides around my throat, coiling about a few times. It's firm, but not tight and suffocating. As I lay there, the coils slowly constrict and undulate around the column of my throat. Only one thing could act like this: a snake. Fear zips through my body. I'm not scared of much, but snakes are not on my favorite list.

I shudder in revulsion as the body coils tighter and tighter. But I don't open my mouth. That's what this psycho wants. As scared as I am, this snake has nothing on my kidnapper. From off to the side, as best as I can figure, the head of the snake comes slithering up my cheek and across the seam of my lips.

Wordless pleas and promises litter my brain. I can't show any fear. Not to this monster. Every inch of me is as still as a statue. I hold my breath for a moment, then only breathe in and out in slow, shallow movements. Maybe if I play dead the snake will leave me alone?

I squeeze my eyes shut and shoot up whatever prayer I can that someone get this freaking thing off of me. The head of the snake worms around a little bit more before sliding back and forth across my mouth. I hold my lips inside my mouth and press my teeth down even harder. Bonus is that it keeps the whimper that hovers at the back of my throat inside where it belongs.

Suddenly, the head lifts off from my lips, and I inhale just a touch deeper. Maybe it's bored with me and wants to torment someone else. Without warning, it slams against my mouth, smacking my skin hard and fast. My eyes fly open. What the hell kind of snake is this? I try to look down, but it only results in crossed eyes and a re-blossoming of my headache.

Groaning, I thrash about in my bonds. I don't even know what to think at the moment. Maybe if I'm lucky, this is all just a vodka-induced dream. That must be it. Letting my breathing settle into a more normal pattern, I relax into my restraints and contemplate the situation in front of me.

If I'm calm, perhaps the dream will go on, and I'll wake up sooner than if I fight it. I haven't done anything but struggle since I "woke up," perhaps it's time to try something else. My deep breaths fill my lungs and steady my heart. I alternate inhaling and holding in order to settle the panic back down and lull my heart into a normal cadence.

The deeper I breathe, the more the snake coils until I'm fighting for every gasp. Dots of light swirl before my eyes, and my stomach flops about as I free fall into unconsciousness. Before I can go completely under, the snake lets go, and I can breathe deeply. Gulping in precious oxygen, I keep my mind busy with rational thoughts. Surely my brain will get bored of this game sooner or later.

As the world rights itself, the snake coils again until I'm back on the brink of slipping back over. Countless times, over and over, I'm brought to the very edge of consciousness, only to be flung back into the present. Tears continue to drip from my eyes as I try desperately to hold onto some semblance of calm and thought. I can only go through so many lists, alphabetize so many cities, before I'm once again confronted with the nightmare in front of me.

"She can't take much more Master. I fear you'll break her if you continue."

My eyes dart about again at the sudden noise. If I could just see something, anything, that would be better than this. My eyes have adjusted to the dim of the room, but all it manages to do is reveal furniture and items that I have no comprehension for. Perhaps the ropes, chains, and various implements on the wall are not as sinister as they seem? Perhaps my brain is just reliving a horror movie I once saw and then put out of my mind? That's the only logical conclusion for where there would be whips, paddles, and sundry items hanging all around me. The furniture looks like something from a torture chamber. Perhaps I saw similar items in a museum?

My mind keeps whirling about, trying to hold onto the feeble notion of this being a dream. The only thing that keeps me grounded is the rhythmic squeezing and releasing of my own personal torture danger noodle. The fact that the motions are unrelenting puts me in a weird sense of ease and comfort. It's the only thing solid and steady in my mind.

"Oh, I'll break her all right."

That magical voice growls softly against my ear. The small wisp of breath stirs my hair and makes me tremble. I toss my head over to the side, hoping to catch even a glimpse of my tormentor, but no. He's lightning fast and stays just out of eye level.

"Master I -."

"Leave us."