She was just a nihilist....(F/m)

Collarspace Discussion Forums

Home Login Search

She was just a nihilist....(F/m)

View related threads: (in this forum | in all forums)

Logged in as: Guest

All Forums >> [Casual Banter] >> Creative Writings >> She was just a nihilist....(F/m)

Page: [1]

Message

<< Older Topic Newer Topic >>

She was just a nihilist....(F/m) - 2/2/2010 12:40:20 AM

OMGlikegagme

Posts: 18
Joined: 1/22/2010
Status: offline

"she was just a....nihilist"

I'm lashed unceremoniously to a chair in a cheap motel room with whatever was handy--rope, electrical cords, duct tape, even my own scarf. When I complain about how uncomfortable I am, Anna giggles, ruffles my hair, and sprawls out on the bed and stares at me like I'm the Sunday comics. She lights a cigarette and as her green eyes and red hair are slowly covered in a halo of smoke she mentions, oh so laconically, that she's used my credit card to rent every room on this side of the seedy motel so "No one will be bothering us." She shifts her position, sitting on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, hands resting on her face, and continues to stare at me, amused. Poison pink lips and candy green nails. Coldhearted cannibal grin. "Cramping yet, baby boy?"

I say something extremely impolite and she's mock offended. "Well, if that's the way you want it, I'll just come back later." I'm babbling out apologies, imprecations, implorations, as she struts slowly past me, bumping me playfully with her hip. The heels of her boots click on the floor as she shuts off the light and leaves me in the darkness.

I lose track of time until I feel a leash tightening around my neck. My hands are still lashed brutally tightly behind me, and my legs are tied together with tape. She pushes me to the floor just as she wakes me up and, as soon as I'm on the floor, the leash goes so tight I can't breathe. "Move, baby. Into the bathroom." There is someone with her this time, a small, supercilious, Indian girl with a camera. "Don't pay attention to Jasmine, she's just here to observe and record."

I try to say something but all that comes out are sputtering, choked monosyllables and then a coughing fit. Jasmine giggles and continues filming as I crawl into the bathroom. This has already gone much too far and having the whole sordid scene on tape is fucking with my mind on an epic level.

She makes me stop in front of the toilet and then turns to the camera, like Woody Allen in one of his movies, and says "Now, for the greatest swirly of all time." Jasmine laughs so hard the camera shakes in her hands while my head is shoved into the toilet. The two girls count to ten together, slowly, and I'm flailing as much as my range of motion allows when someone finally flushes the toilet. Water goes in my nose, in my mouth, and I'm sputtering, spitting, trying not to swallow while my head is yanked from the tub and I'm pushed down into the tub.

Jasmine gets into position to shoot the scene better, lights a cigarette, and waits. Anna brandishes a riding crop, twirls it around a few times, and pretends to strike me. My whole body tenses up and I cower and both girls laugh. "Two for flinching," says Jasmine and Anna hits me twice, hard, in the ribs. The breath leaves my body and I can feel bile rising in my mouth. I'm hoping they just get this over with.

Almost as if they're reading my mind, Jasmine says "We should leave him to think about things for a while." Anna laughs uproariously, produces a menacingly large strap-on, places it on the floor outside the tub, and says "Oh, just so you know, when we come back, I'm going to use this on you. In addition to the beating from hell I'm going to give you." I also notice a riding crop, a knife, and horsehair flogger on the floor beside the strap-on. I'm throwing myself against the side of the tub, graceless and helpless as a large insect throwing itself against the side of a jar in which it's trapped.

"He's so cute when he flails," laughs Jasmine, crushing out her cigarette on the floor with her red Chuck Taylore high tops.

"He's cute when he's terrified of what we're going to do to him next. And he should be," says Anna. Standing right in front of my face, Anna adds insult to injury by farting and pulling the shower curtain closed.

"Oh my fucking God so raunchy." cackles Jasmine.

"Poor little loser," Anna finally says. "Let's go grab dinner and come back and fuck him up royally."

The bathroom light shuts off, the door closes, and I'm screaming for help from the empty rooms all around me, that I'm paying for. I get too tired to yell pretty quickly and I lay in the tub, already bruised, dreading my fate.