Enjoy.
Alex Getting Tortured
Alex pulled against the
plastic zip strip around her wrists and shook the water out of her
hair. She spat, coughed some of the water out of her lungs. She
turned to look up at him, blinking water out of her eyes. “Still
can't remember,” she said.
He slapped her across the
face. She felt the inside of her mouth with her tongue, seeing if any
of her teeth were loose yet.
He slapped her again. She
tasted blood.
“Nope,” she said. “Still
nothing.”
He pushed her head back into
the water. She had time to take a breath, but the cold was still a
shock. The first time he'd dunked her, the shock had made her scream,
taking out the air. Made her panic and struggle.
Every time he dunked her, the
panic lessened. But it never really went away. She was able to hold
on, but it was a matter of time.
The cold at least felt good
against her cheek.
He pushed harder, lacing his
hand in her hair. She struggled against him, but didn't let herself
panic. She just held on, letting the air in her lungs burn, but not
letting it go.
Then she felt his other hand
between her legs. He rubbed, so rough with one hand, so gentle with
the other. He slipped a finger inside. She yelped.
The air bubbles tickled the
side of her face as the air raced out.
She pulled up, trying to get
out of the water. But he held her down. Held her under while his
other hand kept rubbing. She bit her lip, fighting panic and trying
to ignore pleasure at the same time.
She thrashed against him, felt
the plastic digging into her wrists. She tried to scream into the
water, but there was no air for it. He pushed his finger deeper
inside her, wriggling it around, and held her down in the water. Alex
pushed hard, but she couldn't overpower him. The angle was all wrong.
She was about to open her
hand, about to let the little ball roll out, when he finally let her
up to breathe.
She gasped for breath and
tossed her head, splashing water everywhere and not caring even a
little bit. She coughed; her throat was starting to burn.
He grabbed her hair again and
yanked, pulling her to her feet but completely off balance. He put
his hand on her throat. “Tell me what I want to know,” he said.
His voice was flat, calm. “Either that, or I'll have to get a bit
more creative.”
Alex laughed as best she could
and forced a smile onto her face. “This isn't creative?”
He smiled at her. “It's just
a start,” he said.
“Then bring it on.”
It was as if he already knew
it was coming. He pulled her with him as he walked across the room,
letting her stumble as he dragged her by the hair.
“Last chance,” he said.
She spat at him. Missed.
He slugged her in the stomach.
Even ready for it, Alex collapsed to the floor, coughing, her throat
burning even more.
He grabbed her hair again
while she was coughing, put a wide collar around her neck. She heard
the snick of a lock closing, and he let her go. But her head didn't
drop when he did.
A posture collar.
She opened her mouth to say
something, then felt the tugging. As she was lifted off the ground,
dangling by her posture collar, he stepped into her view. Stood there
looking at her with his hands held behind his back.
“Can you breathe okay?” he
asked, smiling with all the charm of a viper. “It shouldn't be
enough to really choke you. I mean, you'll lose consciousness in a
few minutes, probably. Maybe as many as twenty. And if I left you
there for, say, and hour, you'd probably suffer brain damage. Maybe
even die.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin with his left hand.
“So our time is limited. Are you ready to talk now, or
should we wait until you start feeling dizzy?”
Alex grimaced and tried hard
not to move. She forced a deep breath, then another. But she knew she
couldn't keep that up forever. Sooner or later, she'd hyperventilate.
Then she'd panic. Then she'd let the ball go, he'd cut her down, and
the scene would end.
Or, she could tell him.
But then it would end anyway.
“Still not sure,” she
said, her voice weaker than it had been. “Not sure what you're
talking about.”
He smiled at her and pulled
his right hand out from behind his back. In it was a straight razor.
He very carefully dipped it into rubbing alcohol, then lit the
alcohol on fire, letting her watch it burn. When it had all burned
away, he stepped closer to her. “Nice and sterile,” he said.
“This is it?” she asked.
“This is creative?”
“Razors are really special,”
he said. “They're so sharp, you almost can't feel them cut into
your skin.” He ran the metal, the dull side, down her side. “More
importantly, the cuts are so small that they usually don't even scar.
At least, not permanently.”
He turned the blade over and
gave her a light cut just above her left breast. She winced, but it
didn't hurt. Not really.
The cuts were all just barely
on the surface. Over her collar bone. Her right arm. Under her belly
button. Around her nipple. They bled, but just a little bit.
“Ready?” he asked.
She smiled at him, forced
another deep breath. She might not be able to hang there
indefinitely, but she wasn't even close to giving up yet.
He put his free hand into his
pocket and pulled out something yellow, round, and plastic. It looked
like a lemon. He gave her a very sadistic smile. “The pain doesn't
come from the cuts,” he said. He popped the top off the lemon. “The
pain comes from the citric acid.”
He splashed a little bit onto
her chest. She winced as it flowed over the first cut, then whimpered
while she felt it dripping slowly down her skin towards the cut over
her breast, towards the one by her nipple and the one under her belly
button.
The cuts burned from the lemon
juice. It wasn't all that sharp of a burning, but it didn't go away.
It didn't intensify, didn't dull. Just maintained the same level.
He stepped back and cleaned
the razor blade again, whistling to himself as Alex hung there,
whimpering in pain, trying to breathe with the collar pressing
against her throat. Once the blade as clean, he stepped back up in
front of her.
“The tongue,” he said, “is
one of the fastest healing parts of the body. It's because the saliva
helps it heal. Everything in the mouth heals fast. Did you know
that?”
“I can't talk if you slice
apart my tongue,” she said.
He shrugged. “You can't
speak clearly if I cut it too much,” he said. “But you could if I
just sliced your gums. Of course, that'll hurt. A lot.” He patted
himself down as if looking for something. “And I seem to be all out
of Novocaine.”
She laughed. He stepped closer
and reached up to her face, squeezing her cheeks to force her mouth
open.
“No no no,” she said,
thrashing and kicking to get away from him, from the blade in his
hand.
He stepped back and flicked
the razor closed. Smiled at her. “Does that mean you're going to
talk?”
“Please,” she said. “No
more cutting.”
He shrugged. “Just tell me
what I want to know,” he said. “And I'll put away my blade.”
“Okay,” she said. “Okay.
I'll tell you.”
He smiled, folded the blade.
“I had a feeling you would.” Then he let out a sigh. “Too bad.
I didn't even get to the needle and thread part.”
“Leslie,” she said. “My
middle name is Leslie.”
He went to the table and
opened an envelope. Pulled out a piece of paper and read something.
Then he turned towards her
again and undid his pants. Took a few steps towards her.
Alex reached out with her
legs, wrapped them around him, and pulled him closer. Used him to
pull the weight off her throat. He slid into her. She moaned, bit his
neck.
She winced as they went, as he
pounded into her. The sweat streaked down her body, into each of the
cuts. He stepped back, pulling her with him, letting the collar choke
her again. She pulled him deeper inside, growling at him as he
laughed.
He put his hand in her hair
again, squeezed to pull at the roots. “I'll let you down,” he
said. “Right after you make me cum.”
Alex forced a breath into her
lungs.
“I'll make you cum,” she
said, “As soon as I do.”
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