Page 17 of Satan's Naughty List
“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Nomad reassures, pressing his warm lips to my forehead.
“You’re more than welcome to say no to the offer.” Techy brushes his fingers over my spine, massaging as he goes. “It’s a better way to conceal your identity. We’ll have to gather information for paperwork, but we’d prefer to give you an alias than to use your name. I’m not sure how common Aspen is, but we wanted to give you something cool. Something that represents who you are and how you’re progressing. We need to work on concealing who you are and rebranding you. Your health comes first above all else, but your safety is right up there with it. You don’t have to talk about it now, just consider it.”
In all honesty, I want to be able to talk about it. They say that shit is better out in the open than bottled up. I just don’t know if I can do it without breaking down. Doc worked with me several times to bring me back from the point of no return, if my drift is caught. What if I say something then end up pushing myself past that point? I don’twantto die, but I’d rather that over the constant pain and suffering that this life has brought me.
“I don’t know who did this to you or what circumstances lead to this, but we’re working so fucking hard to make sure you can have your revenge. When we find out who…” his baritone voice is almost like a lullaby, if I wasn’t being pressed into an erection that is barely contained by jeans.
“Please don’t,” I whisper, feeling the tears leaking from my eyes once more. Containing them is near impossible, but I figure it’s easier to let them fall where I won’t be judged.
“We just want you to know that we’ll cut off their cocks and shove them down their own throats for you,” Techy states determinedly, his brows scrunching downward. I can’t help the laugh that escapes me from his seriousness. I’d love nothing more than to get my revenge, but the way he said it.
Maybe I’m going crazy. That definitely has to be it.
“I know,” I whisper, taking several deep breaths. “I just want it all to go away.”
“It won’t go away,” Nomad mutters, nuzzling his head on mine. “You’ll just get a hell of a lot stronger.”
“What about exposure therapy?” Techy asks, brushing his fingers through my hair.
Chapter Thirteen
Thiswasn’twhatIhad in mind when he mentioned exposure therapy.
When Techy talked about it a few nights ago, I didn’t think he meant me actually going back to a ball and chain. Apparently, that’s exactly what he meant. Well, at least a version of it.
Walking down the stairs, I can hear the soft music strumming, the bass hitting the speakers heavily. It’s only ten in the morning, but the two men decided that it would be best to start with an empty club instead of diving right into scenes. If I didn’t know any better, I would have anticipated people gyrating on one another, practically screwing on the dancefloor. To say I’m thankful it’s empty…
Finally landing on the bottom stair, my heart beats quickly from the exertion of the trek. Since being here, I’ve eaten better than I have my entire life, but solid foods are still a bitch to keep down. So, physical exercise has taken the back burner in most cases. Stairs are the necessary evil to get down to the club, so I’ve endured it with little complaint.
I’ve also made it extremely clear that I’m open to getting back on the right track. No one wants to be crippled by crushing anxiety, but here I am. The walking, talking version. If you opened the dictionary to the word ‘anxiety’ my face would be the first thing you see.
The pressure in my chest only increases as I look at the walls seeing sensual photos of men and women bound and strung around. My mouth is catching flies at this point because I’m both intrigued and appalled.
Rounding on the two men, I don’t even know what to say. “I wasn’t expecting this,” I go with instead. They both laugh. I’m way out of my comfort level here.
“You’re not going to do that anytime soon,” Nomad reassures gently, his deep voice slightly raspy with the work to remain quiet. A ball weighs heavily in my throat, and it stays unmoving as I attempt to swallow it down. No matter the amount of comfort, I’d much rather just not be here. Seeing this shit…
“You just love to be tied, don’t you?” Charles coos, dragging the knife down my face. Stephan steps up next to him, testing the boundaries of my restraints. I remain motionless. Consequences to moving tend to be worse than just enduring what they give me.
“Answer me!” He snaps, grabbing my throat and cutting off air. The knife digs further into my cheek, and I try to rasp out an answer. Nothing will come out, but I nod to appease him.
He seems to take that answer, letting go of my neck and stepping back. Cool liquid trickles down my face, the sting from the blade as it tears through my skin.
“Look at these tits,” Stephan barks, laughing loudly. He digs the tip of the knife into my breast, bouncing it while it threatens to impale me. Sobs escape me as the point sinks into the underside, before he pushes it back off.
“I think she’s ready for more, don’t you think?” Ravi questions, digging his nails into my skin as he walks around my body.
“Please, don’t,” I whimper, accidentally throwing in my displeasure. That’s what gets you in trouble.
“Hey!”
Ravi snarls, pulling back and slamming his fist into my stomach. I attempt to curl into myself, but the restraints on my body stop me. My face grows red hot as I hold back the agony. They hate sounds of pain, even if they can’t really distinguish my cries while they hurt me. While they do unspeakable things to me.
“You’re going to beg me for it,” Charles demands, stroking himself through his pants.
“Aspen!”
“Please,” I beg, silently addingstop. They laugh, surrounding me with ropes, whips, and knives.
