Sicko(48)

“You may come out,” James says from one of the bedrooms through the door. Swinging it open, I follow his voice into the master bedroom. When I enter, he’s blocked off the whole corner of the room in white sheets with a metal makeshift stand in the middle. It looks like it could be a photo shoot area, with the drop sheets and stand, but when I see the camera on the tripod and the tools lined up beside him, I realize that this isn’t James that I’m dealing with tonight.

This is something else.

He makes his way toward me, placing the bunny mask over my face before the blindfold. It’s the same mask I use every time I work with him. I’m not sure why he chose it, or the significance of it. I bring it down to it having to do with his perverted mind. “I’m sorry, Bunny. I was happy having you beside me as my toy. As my greatest and most beautiful possession.” He yanks the ties around the back of my head when I feel the tears seep through to the blindfold.

“Are you going to kill me?” I ask through cracked vocal cords, shredded like ribbons and falling from my lips.

“Shhhh,” he says, his lips against mine. “Not yet, and not tonight, no.” He pauses, as I hear rustling in the background. “Always the most beautiful girl in the room. Enough beauty and power to bring any man to his knees, and you could have had any, so why him?”

“Why who?” Snot runs down my nostrils as the tears become dense. When I go to swipe, his hands are on mine, leading me away. I feel the sheet between my toes, and I know where I am in the room. My hands are lifted up above my head, as cold metal claws clip around my wrists.

Disturbed “Inside the Fire” starts playing as he kicks my legs wide, fastening them with metal clamps too. He must push a button because they widen. I’m well acquainted with the spreader bar. There’s a long pause of silence before he speaks, and this time when he does it’s through that same voice recorder that he used when he made the last video.

“Every week you leave it, I will punish her.”

What does he want?

“You’re probably wondering what I want, as I usually only do sales with clients who I know are readily able to make an exchange.”

Usually? What? He’s never done this to me in my life. He must be talking to his camera.

“The answer is, I don’t want anything. Isn’t that just the mindfuck for you? You won’t know how to save this girl, and when you’ve figured it all out, I can assure you, you will want to. For now, I will have no choice but to end her pretty little life.” He pauses, and I feel the coolness of a pole over my ass. He doesn’t hit me though. The cold pole glides down the crack of my ass, to the entrance of my pussy. I cry, a sob escaping as he pushes it up inside of me slowly. My walls tighten, resisting the foreign object.

Screaming so loud my throat rips my cries to shreds, my head falls back as pain radiates from between my thighs. “She was always the endgame.” Necro “Who’s Ya Daddy?” starts playing. He finally extracts the pole, slick droplets drip down my inner thigh.

“Mmmm, blood,” I whimper, my pride and body plucked from its innocence and thrust straight through the gates of Hell. My pussy pulses, swollen from the abuse.

“Let’s play a game of Russian …”

roulette…” I shake my head, discreet wails pulsating from my chest.

My muscles release, my body finally relaxing. Just fucking take me. Heaven won’t take me, and Hell won’t welcome my demons back. I’ll be left in purgatory again, only this time for real. Fucking. Take. Me. I’m tired. My body turns lucid, my mind fighting for clarity. Just when I think he’s going to put a gun to my temple, I feel the tip enter me and the stabbing pain rocks me all over again. The song plays on repeat. On and on.

“There’s one bullet in the chamber. We can do guess who.” Click. He pulled the trigger. “Oh, didn’t mean to do that.” He cocks the gun again and I tense around the barrel, the emptiness of my heart spreading like an infectious disease, becoming hollower the further he goes on. “What will I want you to do?” Click. My shoulders start shaking as tears pour down my cheeks and through the blindfold.

“What’s your name?” he says, and I pause, my face falling.

Shame falls over me, washing me with dirt as the song keeps playing, on and on and on and on.

“She doesn’t want to answer, because she’s smart.”

He pulls out the gun, and everything falls silent as his footsteps move closer. “You’re lucky she’s needed tonight, or her punishment would have been much worse.” He taps something. “But there’s always next week.”

Finally, he pulls off the blindfold from my eyes and unlatches my wrists and ankles.

“On the bed,” he says, and I catch the area he has set up. It’s almost like he’s trying to conceal what he’s doing.

“James?” I whisper, confused. He’s dressed in all black, with a chain around his neck and the same emblem he burned into my ankle hanging off it.

“The bed. We’re not done.”

I move to the bed as he sets the camera up to the side of us. “Look to the left and don’t look anywhere else. If you don’t listen, I’ll bring out the pole again. Understood?”

I nod, tears streaming down my face as I keep my eyes fixed on the wall. I let my mind wander. Who was here before us? A pamphlet is folded on the bedside table, with a newly married couple smiling back at me. You’ve got to be fucking joking. This room has probably seen love at its purest, being the honeymoon suite, and yet here we are. Painting the walls with evil.