Ava
I wake to the sound of the lock turning and the door opening. My naked body begins to shake and I huddle against the corner of the closet.
“Come,” Shayne says, as though calling a dog.
Fear keeps me frozen and I curl myself up tighter.
“If I have to come get you…”
He leaves the words hanging, but I still can’t bring myself to go to him. A dark figure dressed in nothing but black pants appears in the doorway. I shrink back when he closes in. He grabs me by the hair and drags me on my hands and knees until I’m crouched on the floor, in the middle of the room, trembling.
He begins pacing while I stare at the cement.
“You fucked up, Ava. You fucked up.” His voice sounds off. It has the anger, but there’s something else—a weird pitch to it that makes him sound unhinged. He’s no longer just a beast. He’s a wounded beast.
He stops for a minute, and I can hear him breathing, sort of erratic, sort of heavy.
I need to be careful, so careful.
He’s moving again, back and forth, back and forth, his bare feet falling fast and heavy around me. “All you had to do was keep your word. But you didn’t, did you? Because you’re a liar! A cheat!” His fist is in my hair again and I cry out when he drags me to my feet and shoves me hard against the wall. “You did this to me!!”
I’m facing him now, and can’t help but gasp. It’s Shayne, and it isn’t. I see the familiar black hair, and the scruff he’s let grow. But his face has changed. There are parts still swollen and tinged green from fading bruises—things that will heal—but his nose is flatter now, and crooked, and a fresh scar tugs at his upper lip, making it look like he’s snarling. There are other deformities, like mismatched cheekbones and a droopy eye, but it all blurs when the tears begin to build. I shake my head. It isn’t my fault. It isn’t my fault. But I know he’s right.
It’s all my fault.
Because I broke my word.
Because I gave myself to another when I said I wouldn’t.
And because of what I did, now he’s not just a beast on the inside anymore, but on the outside too. And maybe I shouldn’t feel bad after all that he’s done to me—he’s scarred me for life, and more—but now I’ve scarred him too. And while I probably shouldn’t feel guilty about it, I do.
Because I’m not the beast.
He is.
The tears spill down my cheeks and seem to catch his eye. He stares at them and watches them fall, the only sound his ragged breaths. It feels like being in the eye of a hurricane. But then the storm comes again and he growls and tosses me like a rag doll across the room. I land on the concrete with a thud.
I curl up on my side, clutching at my stomach and gasping for air, when I see him approach. That’s when I notice the tattoo—notice the bloody slashes through my name, as though he took a knife to it.
Shayne stops behind me and leans over. “Do you have any idea how bad I want to kill him, Ava? How bad I want to rip his fucking life apart? I’ve already killed for you once, and so help me God, I’ll do it again.”
He’s killed for me? My mind jerks and my stomach lurches, but I push past it, knowing Gavin’s life hangs in the balance.
His words keep going. “I’ve already done my research, Ava. Already had a guy out there digging everything up. I know where he lives. I know where his mom lives. I know everything about him. Who he’s fucked. What he’s done. I know the past he’s got sealed up in juvenile records. I could skin this man alive.”
“I’m begging you,” I plead, choking on the words. “I’ll do anything.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes,” I gasp. I turn to look at him, but his hand snakes out and crushes my face to the floor.
“Don’t look at me!” he yells. “Never look at me!”
The beast stands and begins pacing around me again, like a shark circling its prey. I close my eyes tight, praying I haven’t doomed Gavin’s life as well. He keeps moving around me, until slowly, his breathing begins to settle and his footsteps begin to fade, until he’s silent again, just standing near my head.
“Alright, Ava,” Shayne says, his voice that deep eerie quiet that has me trembling harder. “I’ll make another deal with you. You don’t deserve another chance, but I’ll give you one.” He crouches down and pulls my hair out of my face, so he can see me. “You give me your word that you’ll do everything I say—and I mean everything—from here on out, without question, and I’ll let him live. If I tell you to come, you come. If I tell you to get in that crate, you get in that crate. If I tell you to get me the whip, you get me the whip. But if I have to tell you something twice—he’ll pay, one way or another. Got it?”
I nod without hesitation, the tears bleeding down my cheeks.
“Who knows,” he mutters. “Maybe this will teach you how to keep your word.”
Shayne starts petting my hair, slowly, like he’s petting a dog.
“Alright, Ava,” he says, his voice so soft now it’s almost a whisper. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You like it when it hurts? Well, I’m going to hurt you, baby. I’m going to hurt you in ways you can’t imagine. I’m sure it comes as no surprise that I’m a bit of a sadist. I would’ve tried to keep that side from you, as much as possible anyway, but after what you’ve done to me, I think it’s only fair I get to turn the sadist loose, you know, take it to a whole other level. It’s not something I’ve ever done before. Oh, I’ve forced girls, been rough with them, but I haven’t really let go with anyone. But I’m going to let go with you, Ava. You’re going to see the deepest, darkest side of me, because that’s what you’ve unleashed.
“And as you can see, I’ve set us up a little room here. Some of those things over there in that cage, I don’t even know how to use. I just bought whatever caught my eye online. And there’s some crazy shit out there, let me tell you. But I’m going to learn, my little Ava, and you’re going to learn with me. It’s just you and me, baby. From here on out.”
I wonder for a moment, if I’ll wake up and find out this is all just a nightmare. But I know that’s silly. That’s little girl talk. Because the beast over me is real. The fear inside me is real—so real I can smell it, taste it, feel it pumping through my blood, seeping to every part of me.
Shayne’s hand drifts from my hair, to along my shoulder and down my back. “So, where shall we start, hmmm?” He runs his fingers over my old cuts—scabs now—and around the brand. “I was thinking about taking the Cat O’ Nine tails to you, you know, in honor of that day on the playground. It’s the black whip on the right side over there, the one that’s got the nine strips hanging off with the little metal beads at the end. The Cat for short,” he says, like a teacher teaching a student. “But…I think I want to let your skin heal first. I want a blank canvas to start with. A clean slate so to speak.”
I try to swallow down the rock in my throat, but it won’t leave. His fingers move back up to my shoulder and on to my breast. I close my eyes when he takes my nipple between his fingers and tugs.
“I think instead, I’ll focus my attentions here,” he says. “Fuck, you have perfect tits, you know that? So plump and firm and just the perfect shape. I like the curve here, the underneath part, where it’s so full. And, Christ, these little pink nipples? I want to lean down and bite them off so bad, it’s making my mouth water.” He gives a tight pinch, causing me to whimper, then let’s go and points to The Cage. “See that dark grey chain hanging on the inside of the door, with those clamps at the end? Go get me those. And grab that black blindfold too.”
It takes all I have to climb to my feet and walk to what I know will be a place I visit often. I open the door and take the chain between my trembling fingers, and the blindfold, then turn around. The beast stands by the black metal X now. He motions with a finger to come to him. I keep my eyes down and move my legs, one by one. They feel wobbly, taking me someplace I don’t want to go. When I get to him, the first thing he does is slip the blindfold on me, and I know it’s so I can’t see his face.
The world goes dark, and in some ways, I prefer it. In other ways, it’s terrifying. I won’t see what’s coming.
I’m still holding the chain when Shayne moves me so the cold metal X is at my back, then he shoves his knee between my legs, and lifts up until I’m off the ground, straddling his thigh.
“Arms up,” he orders.
I can barely lift my arms for the fear that’s making me weak, but he takes them one by one and gets them the rest of the way and fastens my wrists in thick leather bindings that he pulls tight. “This is called a St. Andrews cross,” he explains, pulling his leg away, so I hang from my wrists now, then moves on to fasten my ankles. “Named that because Saint Andrew is said to have been martyred on one just like this. Turns out he didn’t think himself worthy of being crucified on the same type of cross as Jesus, so he came up with this little gem. Found that out on Wikipedia. Strange. You can find the damndest things there. And this one’s special too. I can make the X wider, rotate it so it lays you back. Turn you around. I can set you up however I want.”
I feel the air shift when he stands up. He’s quiet now, and I know he’s looking at me, at my body—my body that’s stretched too tight, too open. He takes the chain from my hand and dangles it near my ears so I hear the jingle.
“These are called nipple clamps,” he says. “Not too hard to guess what they’re for. These ones are a bit nasty compared to the others I saw. They have little jagged teeth on the inside of the pinchers. And when you tug on them, the clamps tighten down. Hear they’re a bitch when you yank them off.”
I turn my head away and my lower lip begins to quiver. When I start to cry, the beast comes in close and strokes my cheek. “Shhh, Ava. You like it when it hurts, remember? But I’ll give you some pleasure to go with it too, don’t worry.”
I gasp when he takes my nipple in his mouth, sucking and sucking until it turns hard. Then he moves onto the other one.
“Okay, now hold real still while I get these on you,” he says.
I brace, then cry out when a sharp, unyielding pressure crushes my nipple like a vice, first my right, then my left.
“How does it feel?” he asks, sounding intently curious.
It hurts. It hurts so bad, but I don’t answer. I can’t. All I can do is shake my head from side to side. Then I feel a sharp tug, and shriek.
“Wow,” he mutters. “Effective.”
The chain slaps back against my skin, then I hear the rustle of clothes. It’s followed by the slow building rhythm of his breaths, and low throaty groans that make me realize he’s stroking himself.
The world explodes in pain when he tugs on the clamps again. I cry out and he groans louder, feeding off my pain.
He drops the chain again and I feel a sharp pain between my legs. It takes me a second to figure out he’s pulling at my pubic hair. “I want this gone next time I come for you. You don’t have much here, but I want you bare. You’ll always be that little girl on the playground, and that’s how I want you. Understand?”
I nod, then he yanks out a few hairs and I yelp.
“Just to make sure you remember.”
I turn my head away, tears seeping through the blindfold, my breasts burning like they’re on fire. My mind tries so desperately to block him out, but he’s there again, his fingers, sliding between my legs.
“Damn, you’re wet, baby,” he whispers. “I’d like to think you’re all hot and bothered for me, but I know it’s not that. You can be scared too, and your body will do this. It’s a way of protecting itself.” He chuckles. “You’re impressed I know that, aren’t you? Yeah. I’ve been studying, Ava. Taking this seriously. Like I said, ‘Going to take it to a whole other level.’ So I’ve got to know your body, don’t I? Like a musician has to know his instrument. Got to know it, so I can play it, make it do things. Things like this.”
He moves slowly, spreading my juices back and forth, teasing my nerves with a pleasure I can’t escape. His fingers dip inside me, then back around that nub, then sliding back inside. I don’t want this. I don’t want this. But my mouth falls open, and my whimpers turn to moans.
That’s when he yanks the clamps off.
My scream is so loud, it rips my soul in two. A new stream of tears gush down my face. He closes his mouth around my nipple and sucks, coaxing back the blood, making me hurt all over again. I’m gasping when he moves onto the other nipple.
Then he does it all over again. And again. And again. Until my screams are nothing but a rasp and I feel blood trailing down the underside of my breasts.
He suckles on me, tearing at my flesh with his teeth to get more of the red milk. It feels like I’m being eaten alive, like my breasts are being mauled by a wild animal with sharp teeth.
When he’s gotten all he can from me, he undoes my ankle bindings from the X, and lifts them up and links them to where my wrists are attached. My body’s folded in half, and so damn vulnerable. He doesn’t even wait, just sinks up inside me.
I shriek from the invasion, from the thick mass of flesh that stretches me so wide I can hardly breathe.
He stills for a moment—a long moment—doing absolutely nothing, and I don’t understand. He’s quiet, so quiet, except for his harsh breathing. Then I know what he’s doing. He’s trying not to come. A minute passes, and I have a good idea of what he’s been thinking about, because he lets go a shout of rage that shatters my mind.
He hauls back, then shoves his flesh into me so hard that I wonder if he just broke me inside. I scream from the impact, then again and again, as he repeats that hard, brutal thrust of his hips, over and over. He’s thrashing about inside me, hurting me so deep. I feel his every ridge, feel the rake of his tip as he pulls out, only to stab it back in as hard as he can. The cross shakes, my body shakes, the monster so far gone. It goes on forever, until he sinks his teeth into my neck, breaking skin once more, and comes with a roar.
He rests his head in my neck, his heavy breaths a torture against my ears, his scruff like sandpaper against my skin. Whimpers leave my mouth, the pain still so strong inside me. He finally begins to pull out, and I think it’s over, but he pushes it back in.
“I want more,” he groans. “But I want your other hole now. My hole.” He’s already hard again by the time he slips out of me, spits, and begins pushing up into that other place, slowly forcing his way inside while I scream and cry. He didn’t warm me up this time, and I tear again. Then he takes me. Longer. Harder. It’s a lifetime later when he comes, brutal and ruthless, as though trying to force every bit of himself inside me. Finally spent, his flesh slides out of me.
I’m so exhausted, my chin falls to my chest.
He undoes my bindings, ankles first, then wrists, supporting me so I don’t fall, then carries me to the mattress, lies me down, and slips off my blindfold. I curl up on my side, away from him, wincing when my arms press against my breasts.
Shayne sits down next to me, his hand on my hair again, petting me when he says, “When you wake, you shower and clean up good, so you’re ready for next time. Everything you’ll need is in there. Got it?”
I manage a nod.
“What else are you going to do for me?”
“Shave,” I whisper, my voice so broken I wonder if he heard it. But I know he did, because he says, “That’s right. I’m going to leave you a razor for that—and for your legs and under your arms too—but if you use it for anything other than shaving…” He leaves the words hanging for a minute. “Then I’ll consider that as good as breaking your word. And you know what that means, don’t you?”
I curl my hands up tighter under my chin, and nod again.
“Alright. Sleep now. I’ll be gone when you wake up, but don’t worry, I got cameras set up, so I’ll be with you, even when I’m not here.”
He stays there a little while longer, petting me while my breathing slows and my tears dry. I try to think of green eyes, but my mind is useless. Done. Nothing but a black hole.
I hear his soft voice drift again. “You kept your word tonight. Ava. Let’s see if you can keep it up.”
After a bit, he leaves me curled up on the mattress, and shuts and locks the door behind him.