Page 11 of Straightjacket

I cut the voice off by speaking to the guard instead. “Now what? If we’re ready to compare dicks, let’s go? Your lady friend here almost had a cheeky peep before, didn’t you, love?”

Her eyes widen, then she turns to face Mac. “That didn’t happen at all, I swear. He’s lying about that, I would... never.”

“Oh... but I think you would. What is it? Big Mac over here not satisfying you? I hate to break it to you but it’s probably because you have a pussy and not a cock, sorry.” I say snarkily, giving her a look up and down before turning to Mac who looks like he’s ready to explode, his wrinkly face blooming red. He grips the baton tighter until the skin across his knuckles turns white, the bones pushing against his flesh in anger.

“Listen here you little prick,” he seethes and closes the gap between us, his face inches away from mine. We’re so close that I can smell the alcohol that lingers on his breath. “I’m not... fucking gay, alright? You have no fucking idea who I am. I like pussy, not little bitch boys!” He spits through gritted teeth. A smirk stays plastered across my face at his outburst.

Cocking my head to the side, I blow out a breath. “Well, is that a pencil in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

Mac drops his burning gaze from mine to get a better look at his trousers, right to where a teeny tiny erection pokes out. He grunts in anger and snaps his head towards me, embarrassment blooming across his cheeks– cheeks that I’m more than ready to sink my teeth into. I can already taste his sour blood spreading across my tongue, and it only feeds the flame inside of me.

So the nurse doesn’t see his shame, he turns until his back is facing her then he plunges his hand into my hair, gripping the roots tightly until I can feel it burning across my scalp, to force my head backwards then he puffs his chest out to make him look larger than he is. A pathetic attempt to overpower me but what he’s failed to realise is that whilst this entire pissing contest has been going on, I’ve been pulling against the shitty handcuffs, forcing the rails on the bed to come loose, it’s only the grip I have on them that’s keeping the bars in place, so I bide my time for a moment and allow Mac to have his little meltdown.

“You really are a sick fucking freak, aren’t you? Running that mouth, thinking that you know me, well you don’t and I won’t be fucking messed–”

It all happens so fast, like a blink of an eye, a lightning streak across the sky. Lifting the bars, I yank them out of the metal frame and allow one of them to slip through the handcuffs. It clatters to the floor and that’s enough of a distraction to grab the other with both hands and shove it straight through the underside of Mac’s jaw until the rusted end is protruding through his mouth. Warm blood splashes across my face, chest and bed, soaking the crisp white sheets with crimson. It pours like a rapid river out of his mouth, immediately he begins to gurgle on it.

The nurse screams at the scene before her which quickly alerts the guards, but I tune her out, focusing on shoving the metal bar even further into Mac until it slides with ease through his flesh.

I stare into his dying eyes, my hands slick with his blood. “How’s this for having your mouth stuffed?”

Mac continues to choke above me, all the while my stomach screams in pain. Within seconds the guards quickly swarm the room, pulling his limp corpse out of my grasp before dragging me out of the bed and tackling me to the floor. My cheek connects with the tiles, sending a shard of pain through my face and before I’ve even had the chance to fight back, smooth leather shoes appear in my vision, a sharp prick stabbing into my neck.

Just before the blackness takes over me, I hear Thorne. “Muzzle that dog.”

Hands begin to grip me from all sides, tearing at my clothes, yanking the seams apart until I’m left naked and vulnerable. Instantly my body begins to tremble, nails scraping across the tiles as I try to fight off the guards who are determined to drag me into the middle of the room.

Blood smears across the ridges as my nails snap, splitting the skin wide open.

“No! No... please, please!” I scream out, pushing my lungs to the brink of exhaustion but it’s no use, my pleas fall on deaf ears as they continue to drag me by the legs, forcing my cold skin across the tiles, leaving smeared handprints in my wake.

A sour sickness forms in my stomach when the guards successfully bring me to the middle of the room, then one of them pulls out a pair of handcuffs. The metal gleams under the bright lights, the locks flicking open with an audible snap.

“Pin her down.” His demand hits me square in the face, and the only chance that I had to escape leaves me as the other guard wastes no time in straddling my back, forcing my bare chest into the floor. With force he grabs my wrists and pins them down, and I swear I can feel the frail bones cracking beneath his tight grip. He squeezes until my fingers turn white, cutting off the blood flow until the tingling feeling of pins and needles spreads across my skin.

I try to buck him off me, throwing my body around wildly but it only forces him to crush me more until I can feel the hardness of his sickening erection on my lower back. He begins to grind his hips, groaning each time and that sickness that bloomed in my stomach rapidly rises towards my chest until I’m forced to expel it. Sticky, yellow vomit sprays from my mouth across the floor, the chunky remnants of my last meal with Silas hangs in thick globs from my bottom lip. The acidic taste burns my throat, and I begin to heave, forcing more vomit up and outwards until my stomach is empty.

The guard who continues to grind on top of me simply laughs and as the cuffs click into place around my wrists, he grips the back of my head and forces my cheek into the bitter slop, smearing my face like a puppy who just made a mess on the floor.

My own sick clings to my skin, soaking deeply into my pores and just when I thought I couldn’t feel any more shame, the guard who stands in front of me begins to unzip his pants.

I shake my head, smearing more vomit around as I do. “Please... please stop.”

“And why would we do that when the fun has only just begun?” He retorts and pulls his flaccid, shriveled dick out of his pants, aiming it right at me. “You look a little dehydrated.”

The moment those words leave his mouth, he begins to piss into the puddle of sick and there’s no way for me to back away from it, rather I’m forced to watch the bright yellow stream trail towards my face until it flows into my mouth, warmness spreading across my parted lips, the pungent smell forcing its way up my nose.

“You’re nothing but a piss-whore, aren’t you?” The guard above me spits out as he continues to rub my face into the floor. Sobs wrack my body and I can feel the heavy tears spilling down my face.

I thought after facing James that I would be capable of anything. No matter what life threw at me, I could tackle it but the more I’m forced to lay here in a puddle of vomit and piss, the more that determination slips away from me and I don’t have the energy to keep a hold of it. Without Silas by my side, I’m nothing.

He’s the mortar that keeps my stone castle standing and with each moment that we’re apart, it crumbles until I’m nothing but a pile of rubble.

The weight of my eyelids has me feeling drowsy, but the humiliation and torture doesn’t just end here. Once the guard is finished relieving himself, he gestures to the one above to me to stand up. I’m pulled upright, my view spinning on its axis until I’m able to focus again. Strands of my hair cling to my cheek, the once rich blackness is now dull and covered in chunks of vomit and I have nothing to hide the nudeness of my body so I’m forced to cower, hoping that the length of my hair is enough to cover something but even then, the guards look at me like starved beasts, their eyes eager for a taste.

A sharp shrill of clanging metal causes me to jump, and I force my gaze to the ceiling where it opens to allow a chain with a hook to lower down. Fear quickly consumes my body, and I try to scramble away but the guards are faster, grabbing me around the waist to drag me back towards the chain.

“Let... go of... me!” I scream out while throwing my legs around. It’s two against one and my energy is slowly depleting. “Don’t... please, don’t do this!” My strained voice echoes around the room as they yank my arms upwards to loop the hook through the handcuffs. I’m not even given the chance to slip my hands free when the chain begins to retract, pulling my aching body up with it. The muscles in my shoulders begin to throb as the handcuffs are forced to hold my weight, the blistering metal biting into the skin of my wrists.