#now it's like dire but I still refuse to go to a dentist

[emometalhead]

I hate dentists.

[babaleshy]

Time for me to rant. If anybody is morbidly curious about what it’s like to live with Trump supporter parents where one parent basically projects himself onto Trump, you can click the thingie. But the context of how this is different from other times I’ve bitched about my folks on my old account is we’re not starving for once. We actually have some money and are trying to get some shit together so we can take care of the urgent needs such as fucking house repairs and shit.

So... We live on a farm. I won’t say where, but right over the hill is a goddamn oil pad. My parents aren’t rich or anything from the oil rights, but I am reluctantly admitting that we are finally getting some money in to where we could repair our tub so we don’t have to risk blisters from pulling a DIY string to turn on the cold water through a ventilation duct because the faucet is fucked. We also got the train to our tub fixed so that way when we shower, we’re not standing in filthy-ass water that can’t drain properly no matter what we shove down the drain to fix it with. We had to replace the entire drainage system for both bathrooms.  Yes. Both bathrooms. The second one is just a toilet and a sink but that sink had the same clog problem due to YEARS of rust build-up because there’s so much goddamn iron in our well water, which my dad states is “actually water coming in from a flooded mineshaft,” and at this point, it would not surprise me if he was right for once.

We also finally got new working vehicles we don’t have to keep taking in for repairs we can’t afford in hopes we can make it to the grocery store or in hopes my mom and my husband can make it to work. Still 2 vehicles, but they are much newer than what we had before (I’m not car-smart, so I couldn’t tell you what years they are or whatever).

My mom also finally paid off all of the credit card debt we were drowning in. This includes both of mine we were forced to use and max out and never make payments on because we couldn't afford to eat several times. That’s about $3k in the hole if you include late fees and interest on TWO credit cards under MY NAME. Because we didn’t have money on us so we could fucking eat.

We are hoping that soon we can get all of our teeth fixed. My husband and I have wisdom teeth in dire need of removal. All of his are rotten, one of mine is rotten but all four are crowding my teeth, all four of us have cavities in our teeth we’re doing our best to keep from getting worse. So the next logical step is teeth. I’m trying to apply for Medicaid but now apparently you’re required to do that over the phone, now and I need a day during the week where my husband has off so I can get some help with this phone call (long story, I just have trouble with phone calls). We also really hope we can find a dentist and oral surgeon NOT IN THIS AREA. A BIG REASON WHY HALF MY TEETH ARE FUCKED IS BECAUSE OF PURPOSEFULLY BOTCHED JOBS BY AN ASSHOLE DENTIST SO YOU’D KEEP GOING IN AND HAVING YOUR FILLINGS RE-DONE.

But hey! We’re doing financially better, now. Especially since my mom plans to give me birthday money this year, and my parents don’t seem to have a problem with paying (if necessary) to help me get tested for dyslexia.

With all of this good news, you’d think my dad would be just tickled, right?

Nope.

He bitches about spending money. He has a mole hill of money he sees as a mountain and he wants to sit on it and never spend it. He bitches anytime spending has to take place. At all. He parrots any and all things Trump promotes and shit. My dad wants to be Trump. My dad is racist, thinks Mexicans are invading America to take our jobs and rape our women and murder Americans (same with any non-white refugee from anywhere), he thinks the military doesn’t get enough support of any sort, with his excuse being “we need to make sure we can show the world we can destroy it at any time we want to so the rest of the world respects us.” Btw, he equates fear with respect. There is no debating him. I’ve tried.

My dad says if he is somehow convinced his xtian god isn’t real, then what’s the point in being a good person? He’d start killing everybody just because there would be no god to judge him. THIS IS THE SIGN OF A MENTALLY UNHEALTHY, UNSTABLE, UNSAFE INDIVIDUAL. Luckily, my dad is actually all talk 99.9% of the time. My dad is lazy, and even states that his ideal life is to sit in an apartment without ever having to move, and he’d have servants at his beck and call. He actually tried several times to convince my mom to move into an impoverished part of the south intentionally because “we would live like kings with the money we’ve got coming in right now.” He’s full of shit because it actually isn’t that much money. It’s just that we can stop starving. (For context, my mom wants to move north ever since her mom/my grandma died because her sister is all she has left and she lives up north, and since Kent State is up there, I’m fine with that.)

My dad wants to sit around and be lazy and absorb any and all conspiracy theories on YouTube that appeals to his fucked up worldviews on a device he claims to hate and wishes never existed. He also bitches about having to drive my husband around, who “should have gotten his permit and license by now” despite the fact that he finally got new glasses after 10+ years of not being able to afford to upgrade his prescription and needs to get used to his new vision. My dad is convinced that because he willed himself through his own problems that literally everyone else can do the same. My dad is the most self-centered adult outside of celebrity-hood I’ve ever seen. My husband has anxiety because being behind the wheel of a machine that could easily kill people freaks him out, and he’s not sure if he can see a counselor for managing his anxiety on a regular basis is going to be possible right now.

My dad thinks my husband works at a retail video game store to support his hobby and nothing else “because of all the damn games and statues he keeps buying” when my dad likes to ignore the fact that employee discounts, clearance sales, trade-in credits, and special deals exist. 

My dad is a miserable old bastard, and because we’re in the same situation as him, he cannot stand how we enjoy ourselves to make the most of it. Misery loves company, and he can’t get past the fact that his life changed forever when he got hurt and permanently disabled at the steel mill back in ‘95. He has since then refused to accept what has happened to him, and would rather be a miserable piece of shit and take down anyone else nearby with him. Which could be why he bitches about having money he can spend, now.

And he does all of his venting at my husband. I know my dad is trying to goad my husband into saying or doing something stupid so my dad has a reason to either kick us out or be physically violent. My dad doesn’t like the fact that my husband isn’t a fucking idiot. My husband grew up with a family full of anger-filled assholes. He knows the ropes as much as I do. And the fact that my husband sticks up for me while I’m not around shows to my dad that my husband truly does love me, and wouldn’t only stick up for me while I’m around. He has called my dad on his shit quite a bit when I’m not around. My dad HATES that he can’t dangle the indirect message of “you’re all by yourself, no one else thinks you’re right” above my head. And ever since my husband started routinely calling my dad out on his shit, or defending me when my dad bitches about me over stupid shit, my dad has backed off me for the most part.

My dad wasn’t counting on me getting married to a good man. My dad previously equated good men with financial wealth. Turns out my dad was proven wrong, and he can’t stand it. That fucker is the whole reason why I have had so many self-image insecurities (and still do) and my dad can’t stand it that my husband isn’t joining him on mocking me. My husband tells him to fucking stop. My dad dares not do it in front of my mom, because she tells him to stop.

My parents aren’t in a very health marriage. There’s more footage of convincing evidence of Bigfoot than there are times my parents did something together because they love each other, and I’m not talking about anything expensive, either.

Mom sleeps on the couch because she told me she can’t stand his snoring. However, I remember my mom once telling me that my dad “doesn’t have an ‘off’ switch with his libido” so I’m guessing that’s another reason why.

Both of them sit in the same room on opposite sides of the room (mom on the couch, dad in the busted-ass armchair) on their devices (mom on her tablet and/or phone and dad on the computer that’s by/in front of his chair), only talking to each other about certain articles they read, and not much else. They’ll occasionally watch something on the TV together on Netflix or Hulu but that’s about it.

Mom wanted to live on a farm and raise horses ever since she was a little girl, and through manipulation and the excuse of 4-H projects through me and my brother, she finally got her wish. And my dad is against having any animals of any sort. All he does is bitch about them. He also bitches about how much country my mom listens to (and I can’t blame him there; my mom is the whole reason why country music is the bane of my fucking existence).

Aside from boinking to have 2 kids and mourning over the loss of one of them, my parents have very little in common. I have no idea how or why they got together other than my dad made my mom laugh and didn’t break her jaw like her ex-husband did, my dad had 3 exes and wanted to make the 4th one count, and my mom found out she was pregnant with me before dad proposed (I’m GUESSING knocking my mom up is what made them decide to marry, I dunno).

My mom has (VERY FEW) redeeming qualities, so I take advantage of her mama bear nature to ensure I’m safe under the same roof as my dad. I’m unintentionally appealing to her desire for a farmer-daughter by wanting to garden, though I made it very clear I will never be responsible for farm animals again. She also doesn’t mind the fact that she’ll never be a grandmother to human babies. I’m willing to bet it’s because she never wanted me and doesn’t blame me for not wanting kids of my own. She gets points for not being exactly like her own mother, but I could’ve used some meaningful and caring mother-daughter bonding instead of the distant I-see-you-as-a-burden-now-that-we-are-living-in-poverty treatment I got growing up.

I could point all of this out to my parents, and they would rather spend more time coming up with excuses or redirecting the blame instead of, you know, APOLOGIZING FIRST. And I say this because I have brushed on the topic before and they got SUPER defensive about it.

I was an accident, they got married probably so I wouldn’t be born out of wedlock and so their respective families wouldn’t look down upon them, they thought they had this and had a second kid, a year to two years later dad gets hurt at the mill and we’ve been impoverished ever since but because boys bring more promise of success than girls---especially girls who are different like I was and still am---my brother was automatically the favorite. And I was always screamed at.

Boy would I love to see a therapist instead of a one-hour visit with a counselor trying to figure out as much of why my brain is the way it is once a friggin’ week. Not blaming the counselor, because he’s awesome. But my counselor did say that he’s actually a bit surprised but glad I’ve figured out some way to live with this. It’s because I know how they act, how their minds work, how they would react if I said or did this or that. Having all of this free time and being alone with my thoughts because my husband works his ass off for pennies only for my dad to try and make him spend money on necessities instead of spending his own goddamn money has allowed me to think about and even analyze my own parents; how they act, why they act this way, why they’ve acted that way, etc.

I do consider myself lucky that they aren’t worse than this. My mom is actually much more understanding with me, now, and that’s probably because I’m the last child she has left. So I guess after living in a shit or unhappy marriage and working her ass off to raise two kids and then losing one, she tries to be the good xtian mother and be thankful for what she has now. It’s a guess, though. The whole thing could be a facade for all I fucking know.

Dad’s all talk, but because his tone is the same whether or not he makes his shitty, stupid jokes, or can’t keep certain thoughts to himself and feels the need to say them aloud (SUCH AS POINTING OUT I HAVE CLEAVAGE LIKE IT’S SOME “OMG WOW YOU HAVE BOOBIES NOW AFTER HIGH SCHOOL” IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE COMMUNITY COLLEGE IN MY EARLY TWENTIES THANKS DAD THAT WAS CREEPY WHAT THE FUCK), it’s hard to tell whether or not he’s serious about some of the shit he says.

He projects himself onto Trump because he wants to BE Trump. Trump says if Ivanka wasn’t his daughter, he’d date her. I wouldn’t be surprised (I’d still be creeped out) if my dad said something similar. And he has tried to talk about my appearance and how I could make money with it such as a pin-up cosplay calendar because apparently I “look so attractive” while at the same time he shames me for having “skin so pale my legs blind him from reflecting so much light while I wear shorts.” And when I call him out on it, he genuinely thinks he’s done no wrong. My dad is pretty much Trump Lite, and it’s creepy.

But I know the fucker. I can play at his fucked up game, too. All I gotta do is talk about periods or vaginas, because suddenly when his daughter talks about, you know, being a human, suddenly it’s just too much for him.

And he hates I can play this fuck-ass game with him.

And I’m glad he hates it.

Because it’s evident he will never see himself in the wrong. He never has, never does, never will. Because he’s got one excuse or answer after another, and when he runs out, it’s time to drop the conversation before he gets pissed and ruins the night for everybody.

So I’m glad I’m good at playing this game back at him and being damn good at it. That’s what he gets for being a piece of shit.

[a-spell-a-rebel-yell]

finally experiencing what does it feel like to pass out... almost.

so, hello. hi anons, eyes of the public, the FBI agents spying on me through my laptop webcam, you, everyone...

this is going to be the first post i put up here, in my second tumblr, which will be more concentrated in posting things happening in the life—especially now that i’m about to dive into the hard life of co-assistant, next step into becoming a dentist (yay!). not sure if i’m going to post frequently, but i guess having a much wider platform to write things in might do me good. caution though, everything written here are all un-beta-ed, so expect 857573458734587 typos.

so, back to our title: yes, i almost passed out/faint/lost consciousness, for the first time ever in twenty one years of my life.

today i did my periodontics module remedial, went well, just a case of a pregnant woman suffering bleeding and enlarged gums = pregnancy-induced gingival enlargement. easy peasy. went to the library (yes, again. i think i can safely say my second home is the library, i spent way too much of my free time there) to work on the clinical exposure homework, reading journals and getting buried under pounds heavy textbooks. easy peasy 2.0. then around twelve noon time i got my blood taken for hepatitis and HIV testing (standard procedure for students continuing their study as co-assistants) and things started going downhill from this.

as you all know, my anxiety is so easily triggered, and the idea of someone else inserting a needle into my arm is always making me nervous. but i’ve done this a whole lot of time before, so i kept reassuring myself things will go well—which indeed what truly happened. the nurse took a small cartridge of blood and that was it, the pain was minimum. got up, said thank you to the nurse & accompanying doctor, and left the room.

once i got out, i started to notice my heart pounding. faster than it normally would, but at that time i took little to no care about it, since it happens a lot when adrenaline is coursing in. took more steps towards the lift to go downstairs and do my Dhuhr prayer, but again i notice how my surroundings started to fade in and out, and this time the pounding on my heart reached its way up to my head, making things a lot more fuzzy. i decided to step down, half crouching on the floor to steady myself and shake out whatever was messing with my head. i remember asking my friend, “why do i feel dizzy?” that should’ve been a major red light but i didn’t care much because i still had way too many things to do and finish—i needed to go, no time worrying for myself. so i got up again, though slightly shaky, and entered the lift. and that was it.

everything started to turn into black and white, i lost control of my body and mind, i could no longer withhold my own weight, and—bam. i lost my vision, everything was pitch black, i couldn’t feel my limbs or arms, but i still could hear my friends calling out for me. i felt my friend’s arm wrapped around my waist, keeping me standing, since, mind you, we were in a lift full of people. thank God it was just a short journey from third floor to the ground floor, and my other friends were quick to summon a nurse and a wheelchair from the ER (this part is so embarrassing lol imagine turning into a human sized jelly with face as pale as a ghost in front of everyone). a little background, i was actually fasting today, as a part of the weekly Monday/Thursday fasting routine. silly me i didn’t even eat something for suhoor, the last time i ate something decent was around four in the afternoon yesterday. and today i had to get my blood taken??? what a risky, foolish bloody combo—no pun intended lol.

in the ER i got my blood sugar level tested, got 87 (normally 100), meaning i had to drink/eat something sweet as soon as possible. got oxygen stuffed into my nose with a cannula, been there but the sensation still felt outlandish to me. my blood pressure is low, 106/60 when normally it should be 120/80, the doctor said stress really got its toll on me. i refused to get intravena infusion because hello i almost passed out—in meds the term is syncope which means you haven’t really passed out yet and it’s just your nerves and blood pressure acting up so your body shuts itself down to save yourself from further damage—i’m never having needles inserted on me again on this dire time. my friends insisted that i need to go home, so they called my dad and he took me home.

now i’m on my bed, writing this while having many different Google Docs, scientific journals, and textbook PDFs opened in the next tabs because surprise, surprise: i still have a ton of things to do.

but anyways, moral of the day, no matter how much stuff you’re loaded with... always take care of your health. eat. drink. sleep. your health and your body got no price tag coming along with it, no amount of money can restore them back once the worst have happened. in much more positive light, i scored a lot of firsts today: first time experiencing a syncope episode and first time got treated in an ER for an actual emergency case. somehow, if i dare to say it, it’s almost fun to go through. hahaha :-)

a message to myself (or to you too if it applies): i know you gotta finish all of them in order to graduate and get your DDS degree just in time, but you need to sort out your priorities, make time for yourself too. let loose sometimes and be happy.

a simple plot, but i know one day, good things are coming our way.

[pharmacyfollies]

2 Hour Wait Parte Dos!! Pharmacy Follies

Well, spank my ass and call me Charles! The post I wrote about why it takes forever and a minute to fill a script went fucking VIRAL on Facebook!! In case you missed it, clicky here. I didn't want to edit it to add more things so this is part 2. These are situations that Pharmacy Folk deal with that can cause wait times to go up. Enjoy and be enlightened to the horror show known as the Pharmacy! :D

12. Sometimes, people bring the wrong insurance card and can't seem to understand that just because the scripts were written by a dentist, I can NOT bill your dental insurance. You are at the pharmacy now, so I need to see your pharmacy insurance card.

11. At the beginning of the new year, a LOT of insurances have deductibles. Even if you've never had a deductible in the past. This means they are going to charge you more for your prescriptions. Sometimes, it's a few bucks more and sometimes, they charge you the whole damn deductible at once. The pharmacy has no control over this. All we do is submit a claim by pressing "send" and the insurance sends back a price as to what to charge you. Any questions regarding that, you'll have to contact the insurance and speak to them. I won't speak for anyone elses pharmacy, but at the one I work at, we do NOT call insurances to question copay's or deductibles. That's a patients responsibility and quite frankly, I do not have time to do that.

10. Sometimes, insurances raise their prices. It happens. I know what you paid last year, last month or even last week. Insurances change their formularies all the time. Once again, the pharmacy has no control over that. Any questions regarding that, you'll have to call your insurance.

9. Sometimes, insurances change their formularies and what was covered last year, last week or yesterday is not covered today. The only thing the pharmacy can do is call the doctor to get a new medication or request your doctor do a prior authorization. Prior auths can take between 1-14 business days, from when the doctor contacts the insurance, for an approval or denial. Once again, the pharmacy has no control over that.

8. Speaking of doctor's offices, they're just as busy as we are. 99% of the time, they do NOT do refill requests over the phone. They prefer to be faxed, E-Scribed or a voice mail left on a refill request line. It's usually a 3 day turn around on a refill request. Calling the pharmacy and demanding that we call the doctor RIGHT AWAY, because you've been out of medication for a week and you're calling now for a refill request, will NOT guarantee that you'll get your refill right away as often times, the doctor's office will tell me to fax it/E-Scribe it/transfer me to the refill request line or will take a message and will call back later.

7. Speaking of doctor's offices again, if you drop off a prescription and there's some sort of issue regarding it that necessitates a phone call to clarify it, we will call the doctor to ensure that we fill the prescription correctly. Often times, the doctor's office takes a message and will call us back. Sometimes, they call back right away and sometimes, they don't. Keep in mind, they're just as busy, and they usually call back once the doctor has a chance to do so.

6. Speaking of doctor's, if you are seeing a new doctor and need us to send a refill request, make sure you tell us that you are seeing a new doctor. You must do this with every refill that still has the old doctor's name on it. If you do NOT tell us this, we will send the refill request to the old doctor who will end up denying the request. Trust me when I say I do NOT like getting yelled at when you come to the pharmacy only to find out your script was denied because we sent it to the wrong doctor. We're not psychic. Help us so we can help you.

5. Occasionally, we run out of medication or we do not have certain medications in stock. Asking me to "check in the back" is all for naught because despite what some folks think, we do NOT have a "back" where we have to go down a flight of stairs, swing on a vine over crocodile infested waters and pass through a secret door guarded by eunuchs that leads to a room with an unending supply of every drug on this planet. We run out of medication when there's a high demand for it, like Tamiflu, and sometimes, medication goes on back order, like Atenolol, which means the manufacturer isn't making enough to supply the masses. Sometimes, we don't carry certain medications simply because there's no demand for it. Not only that, we cannot "hold" medication. It's first come first serve. If you are on a medication and you find that the pharmacy is often out of stock on it, it's best that you give them at least 5 days notice, before you run out, so that they can order it and have it in stock by the time you need it. Do NOT wait until Friday and the weekend because most pharmacies do not get deliveries on the weekend.

Please don't scream at pharmacy staff because they don't carry some rare medication that costs $10,000, Dorzolamide eye drops is on a long term back order or because they don't have enough Oxycontin 30mg. At best, we can try to see if anyone else in the area has your medication or call the doctor to see if it can be switched to something else. If not, we can usually order it in for the next day. Screaming at us will NOT negate any of that and it's not like I got any stashed in my cooter. Seriously.

4. Speaking of Oxycontin, if you are on C-II narcotics, for whatever reason, please try to fill these at one pharmacy. Pharmacies have access to a database that keeps track of controlled substance prescriptions. So when we see that you fill controls at various pharmacies, especially if we see you paying cash price, it raises suspicions. This means we WILL be contacting the doctor to verify that your prescriptions were written by him/her and aren't fakes. The DEA is cracking down on the overuse of controlled substances which means doctors AND pharmacy staff can lose their licenses if things aren't legit.

Also, when it comes to controlled substances, most pharmacies will let you fill your scripts between 1-3 days early. Any earlier than that, we will have to get the ok from your doctor, HOWEVER, if the pharmacist sees that you are CONSTANTLY getting way too early refills, he/she is legally within their rights, as a licensed professional, to NOT release it early. If you constantly try to get your controlled substances early, it arouses suspicion, gets you put on the pharmacy's "watch for early fill" list and it may get you banned from filling controlled substances at the pharmacy. And don't bother with the excuses. We've heard them all ranging from they got stolen out of your car AGAIN to dropping them down the sink/toilet to leaving them at a hotel in another city to the doctor said it was ok to take 15 Norco everyday.

3. Please keep in mind that this is a pharmacy and NOT a doctor's office/emergency room. Do NOT come straight to the pharmacy if you cut your finger so deep that you're gushing blood and can see tendons. Do NOT come straight to the pharmacy if your baby has a 104 degree fever. Do NOT come straight to the pharmacy if you're having really bad chest pain. Do NOT come straight to the pharmacy if you accidentally gargled with Draino instead of Listerine. Do NOT show me a picture of the weird bump that sprouted on your tallyhoohoo. If you are in dire need of emergency medical care, I cannot help you more than directing you to the nearest ER/urgent care center or dialing 911 on your behalf.

2. Once upon a time, pharmacies ONLY filled prescriptions. For some ungodly reason, Corporate thought it would be a GREAT idea for Pharmacists to give vaccinations AND check blood pressure, glucose levels and do cholesterol testing. So when my Pharmacist is in the Penalty Box, hockey speak for the little privacy room, spending between 15-30 minutes with patients giving them a Zostavax injection, checking someone's blood pressure or drawing blood to see if their cholesterol is down the shitter, that means prescriptions are NOT getting verified.

1a. For the love of Sweet Merciful 6lb 14oz Baby Jesus, do NOT call the pharmacy and ask us to fill EVERYTHING in your profile. NO!! Not going to happen. Especially if I see that you fill prescriptions sporadically. You have to give me names of the medications. If you don't know the names of the medication, tell me what you're using it for. If you don't know that either, skip to 1b. The reason I refuse to fill everything is because it NEVER fails: At pick up time, this person will go through their sack of drugs, exclaim how they're no longer taking this and that, and in the end, out of 15 prescriptions, they only want 4 of them.

1b. For the love of all that's sanctified and holy, please keep an updated list, somewhere in your house or on your person, of ALL CURRENT medications you are on. Names, strengths and dosages. This is important for 2 reasons. It makes it easier for the pharmacy when it comes to refill time and most importantly, if you are ever in an accident or are in need of medical assistance, the attending medical professionals will need to know if you're on medication and what that medication is because if they need to treat you with medication, they need to make sure it will NOT interact with anything you're currently taking. I have LOST COUNT of how many ER's have called us to find out a patient's pharmaceutical profile because they were in a horrific accident and cannot operate because the patient has no idea as to what the names of the medication they're taking nor what they're taking it for. Seriously, ya'll. This is important shit to know in the case of an emergency.

[girlanachronsim]

The Deadliest Man Alive

Pairing: Deadliest Man Alive x Ofc 

Warnings: Torture, non-con, descriptions of violence

Word Count: 9,435 

Read it on AO3 instead!

Summary: Someone is found snooping around the old 'abandoned' warehouse in which Dr. Baron Von Nazi is executing his plans. The deadliest man alive doesn't take kindly to strangers.

I peered around the door of the warehouse, listening to the muted whisperings of the men inside. I heard talk of death and bombs, but it was only when they mentioned the Prince that I stumbled, the heavy iron door leading into the warehouse creaking slightly. I froze and they stopped talking immediately.

“I ‘fink I heard something.” One of them commented and my shoulders tensed, ready to sprint.

“Vell?” The other one retorted impatiently. “Go and check it out.”

I heard footsteps coming towards the door and I had a split-second decision to make; either he wouldn’t make it to the door or I wouldn’t be there to find. I decided on the latter.

I ran, the door groaning as it slowly shut behind me while I sprinted as fast as I could in the other direction. I heard shouting behind me but ignored it, running into the alley by the side of the warehouse and making several sharp turns to try and lose my pursuer. I only started slowing down after seeing that I had quite literally forced myself into a corner as the alley terminated abruptly, with no visible escape route.

That’s when my pursuer caught up with me, dragging me off of my feet by my collar and slamming my face against the rough brick wall, breaking my skin. Stars burst behind my eyes as I struggled to remain conscious, feeling his arm push against the back of my neck. My face was flush with the wall as I felt the blood trickle down my cheek. We were both breathing heavily, locked in a silent struggle until the second man came running up to us, red in the face and severely out of breath.

“Who is she?” He gasped in his thick German accent.

“I dunno.” The other man answered flippantly, pushing his arm further into the back of my neck until I could barely breathe.

“Come. Ve vill take her in for questioning.”

The German man turned on his heel while the other released his grip on my neck suddenly so I stumbled backwards, gasping. Then a heavy hand landed on my shoulder. I turned to look at my captor who then proceeded to examine my cheek, wiping his thumb through the blood that stained it, making me wince. He rubbed the blood between his fingers before smirking. Sick bastard.

He turned me in the direction of the German forcefully, standing so close to me that I could feel the imprint of the gun strapped to his leg on my waist before starting to walk, dragging me along with him.

We returned to the warehouse, him leading me up the rusty industrial staircase and we passed numerous cell doors. The numbers ticked by but we stopped at room 206, the man opening the door then forcing me through it before him. I was faced with a large silver chair which looked rather like a dentist’s chair that was taking the dominant position in the centre of the room. It obviously wasn’t being used for dentistry though; it was laced with leather straps and there were cuts and indents in the metal, and in the most inconvenient places when you imagined where an average person would fit onto it.

The man placed his hand on the small of my back and I flinched, bile rising in the back of my throat and goosebumps rising on my arms as I thought about what may have happened on that chair. And what was going to happen on that chair.

The man leered over me, his intimidating height and overpowering presence making me uncomfortable. Then the German entered the room and I calmed slightly, shifting slightly further away from the man as his attention was on the German.

“Vell, vell, vell, vat do we have here?” The German grinned cockily.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said, my voice sharp with fear.

The German pursed his lips, rocking on his heels before nodding pointedly at the other man. He gripped my shoulders, his fingers digging into my flesh as he pushed me towards that horrifying chair. He jerked my body around, spreading his hand over my chest before slamming me down onto the cool metal, the chair rattling in protest.

“I’ll cut you a deal.” The German paced, his arms crossed firmly behind his back. “If you tell me who you’re vorking for, I von’t let him hurt you.”

My eyebrows knitted together in confusion and I tried to get up, only to have my body forced back down by the intimidating man.

“I don’t work for anyone.” I spoke hurriedly, starting to panic as the man lifted one of the leather straps, wrapping it around my wrist and tightening it until the skin around the strap was white.

“You’re not a spy?”

“No.” I said quickly, watching the man warily as he crossed over to my other side, strapping my other wrist down.

“I don’t believe you.” The German spoke flippantly.

“I just happened by, I don’t even know who you two are.” My voice was shrill as my panic level started to rise. “Please, it’s just an old warehouse, I thought it was still abandoned. How was I to know that you were in here doing… whatever you’re doing?”

The German merely raised his eyebrow.

“There’s… there’s nothing I can do to convince you, is there?” I asked, my heart sinking in my chest.

“No.” The German grinned, lifting his eyebrow.

I gulped, looking from the German to the other man as my fingers started to twitch.

“What are you planning to do to me?” My voice was tense as I saw the man kneel down next to me, pulling up another leather strap and wrapping it firmly around my ankle.

“Zat’s not up to me.” The German said ominously, letting his gaze wander to the other man. “Zat’s up to the deadliest man alive.”

“Wait, you’re-”

“Yup.” The man interrupted me, crossing over to my other ankle.

“Fuck.” I exhaled, attempting to resign myself to my fate.

“You 'eard of me?” The man paused, looking up at me evenly.

"You’ve murdered so many people.” I said in digust, watching him finish tying me up.

“One thousand one hundred and forty-seven, to be precise.” He grinned toothily, as if that were a thing to be proud of.

When he was sure he had me firmly secured he returned to a standing position, going to lurk next to the German, crossing his arms over his broad chest. I twitched my wrists and ankles, checking that there were no weak spots in my bonds.

“Find out who she’s vorking for.” The German muttered to the other man before shifting his gaze to me. “And vonce you have, you may dispatch her.”

The man’s lips slowly twisted into a smile as they both looked at me with sinister eyes and I shifted uncomfortably.

“Thank you sir.” He said genuinely as if he’d just been given the best job of his whole career.

The German nodded, leaving the room through the heavy metal door that clanked shut behind him. The other man continued to stare at me with his arms still crossed, and I felt very close to vomiting. This man was clearly fucked up in the head, and now I was left at his mercy and tied to a chair.

“So, what we gonna with you then?” He asked rhetorically, tipping his head.

“You’re not working for anyone, are you?” He started to meander towards me and I flinched away.

“No.” I responded shortly. I had the faintest glimmer of hope that if I told the truth then he’d somehow find it within himself to set me free. But no such luck.

He only smirked, leaning down to my level.

“Shame. It’s always more fun when I have to break them. But torturing without a purpose can be fun too…”

He passed around the back of the chair and I flinched involuntarily, panicking that I couldn’t see him anymore.

“It’s not often I get a woman in the chair.” He exhaled, his heavy hands landing suddenly on my shoulders, making me jump. “There’s so much more you can play with.”

His hands started wandering from my shoulders and my jaw tightened.

“Don’t you dare.” I hissed.

He stopped in his tracks, suddenly removing his hands from my front, much to my relief.

“Have it your way.” He grunted, making his way over to a large duffel bag that was sitting uselessly in the corner.

He unzipped the bag, rummaging for a while before pulling something out of it triumphantly. He turned and approached me, and as he got closer I could make out the vague shape of… pliers in his hand.

He took in my terrified expression with glee, brandishing his instrument before kneeling beside me.

“What do you reckon this is used for?” He breathed, toying with his food before he ate it.

I refused to answer, my mouth pursed into a firm line as he teased me.

“Aw, go on.” He urged, punching my shoulder lightly. “Answer me, or I’ll use it on you. Sorry, and. Answer me and I’ll use it on you.”

“You’re sick.” I spat.

“Sweetheart, you don’t know the half of it.” He drawled, standing up slowly while twisting the pliers in his hands.

“But I think I’m about to.” My voice was tense and he could sense that, smiling broadly as I spoke.

“Go on then, 'umour me. What do you think they’re used for?”

“Pulling… teeth?” I answered hesitantly, hoping that the answer I gave wasn’t going to be the one he picked. I wouldn’t want him anywhere near my mouth.

“No. Close though. Pulling something.” He snapped the pliers right next to my ear and I twitched. “It’s actually fingernails.”

He abruptly but carefully set the pliers next to my left hand, expertly seizing the fingernail from my index finger in one pinch.

“So you’re just going to…”

“Yup.” He said before suddenly jerking his arm backwards, my head bursting with pain as my vision blackened around the edges.

I felt nauseous and I couldn’t focus as he continued wrenching at the fingernail that so desperately wanted to stay attached to my body. I might’ve screamed, I certainly wanted to, but I wasn’t sure whether I had the capacity to when in such dire agony.

I caught sight of my hand and the blood that oozed over the fingernail that he was trying to pry off before sharply looking away, resigning myself to never look again. It did nothing to ease the pain, in fact it only seemed to make it worse.

My hand felt as though it had swollen to the size of a beach ball, and the blood coursing through my system wasn’t helping in the slightest.

Then the awful sensation of pulling stopped but the pain was still there, wrenching at my gut and running up and down my spine in a constant to-and-fro. The man said something, but I didn’t know what. I could vaguely make out footsteps and then he was on my other side, pulling my face towards his by my chin.

“Don’t worry love, they all pass out after the second.”

There was that sickening smile on his face as I was actually able to comprehend his words, only briefly before that torment continued, this time on my other side. My vision swam and slowly faded to nothing as the overwhelming stabbing pain became too much and I left that terrifying man alone with my body to play with.

 *

I awoke to a throbbing pain in my hands, confused by the bright lights and the fact I couldn’t move my arms or legs until I remembered where I was and what was happening to me. My eyes snapped open and I looked down to see both of my index fingers raw and bloody and without fingernails. Not only that, they were purple and mangled and I couldn’t even move them anymore. None of my other fingernails were gone, however, and from what I could see and feel everything else of mine was intact. I breathed a sigh of relief, looking to the ceiling when a voice rang out in the empty room.

“It gets boring once they pass out.” I looked out into the gloom of the cell to see the man sitting in the semi-darkness, reclining casually on a chair as if he’d been waiting the whole time just for me to regain consciousness.

Suddenly all of the blood rushed to my ears and I couldn’t focus again, I was paralyzed with fear.

“I prefer to see the pain on their features.” His jaw shifted and he got up from the chair, meandering towards me.

“Where’s your voice gone, kitty?” He muttered, reaching out to put pressure on my right incapacitated finger.

The pain shot up my back and my shoulders tensed, my neck drawing into itself. He kept pushing harder and harder until my mouth fell open, a high-pitched gasp escaping the back of my throat.

“There it is.” He lifted his hand, smirking as he crossed over to my other side.

He leaned over, picking up something from behind me before putting it on a conveniently placed iron table next to me. It was a large electrical box with loads of dials and knobs and flashing lights, the electrical lead trailing off the table and snaking behind me.

“Not more.” I just managed to mumble, on the brink of tears. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can, and you will.” He affirmed, staring at me intensely.

I looked to the ceiling, blinking back tears as my hands started shaking. He poked his tongue in his cheek, leaning over the electrical box and fiddled with the dials as I panicked, the box suddenly making a loud buzzing noise thanks to the power now throbbing through the cables. Pulling out two wires from the back of the box, he abruptly turned to me with a menacing look in his eyes.

“Now, this is a new toy, so I’m still working out the… kinks.” He breathed, taking my hand and flipping it over, despite the resistance that my bonds provided.

His gaze flicked to mine before he held the exposed wire to my wrist. It was an unusual feeling at first, all of the muscles in my lower arm and hand suddenly contracting, but as the time went on I began to feel the torture element, the cramping in my muscles almost unbearable as I stared at the hand that had twisted itself into a weird angle and resembled more of a claw than anything else. My breaths grew short and I tried to writhe away from the wire but my bonds wouldn’t let me so my whole body writhed instead, trying to focus on anything but the electrical pulses running through my arm.

He lifted the wires just as I felt fit to burst and I slumped down, gasping for air with my right hand twitching and spasming. Without warning, he lifted his leg onto the chair beside me, digging his knee into my side as he leered over me so I snapped my head up, my neck exposed and his face now obnoxiously close to mine.

“This may ‘urt a little.” He warned me, holding the wires in his hands and raising them towards my head.

The moment he pressed those wires to my temples, my whole body lost control. My head tipped back even further, gasping for air as every muscle in my body struggled to keep control. My limbs were shaking, my wrists chafing against the leather bonds as they twitched and writhed, but it was better that than my arms flailing around with the risk of me breaking or dislocating them. Just as my vision started to cloud he removed the wires, giving me a second to relax before pressing them to my temples again, the electricity running through my system anew.

I lost control of my body again, my eyes losing focus quicker than the last time and he removed the wires yet again just in the nick of time. I was struggling against my bonds so violently that I had broken the skin, the blood oozing and spreading behind those leather straps that kept me in my place.

“You hurtin’ yet, love?” He mumbled, shifting to sit on top of my lap as he moved strands of sweat-soaked hair from my face.

I probably would have come up with a cutting remark had my brain been functioning and my mouth in full working order, not twitching erratically. He lifted the wires to my head again and this time it only took a few moments before my vision blurred and I left the madman alone with my lifeless body for the second time.

 *

I don’t know how long I was out for, but when I woke up the Nazi’s four little henchmen were 'looking after’ me while the intimidating man was gone. They cleaned and bandaged my fingers, fed me something dry and tasteless before tying me back onto that torture chair, thankfully looser than when he had tied me to it, and left me there.

I was so busy working myself into a state that only the arrival of the man himself could clear my brain, the paranoia and fear suddenly lapsing. It looked as though he had had a long day as he slumped his bag from his shoulder and cracked his neck; a good bit of torture ought to cheer him, pep him up a little.

He turned to me slowly, eying me with a queer look in his eyes that I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen before.

“'Ow were the henchmen?” He asked casually, rolling his shoulder as he talked to me.

“Oh yes, they were a brainwashed bundle of joy.”

“I see you’ve kept your sharp tongue.” He smirked at me.

“It’s the only thing I have left.”

My statement hung in the air between us and I desperately wanted to take it back as he stared at me again with that weird look.

He meandered towards me, my shoulders tensing as he drew close and closer. Then in a movement quicker than I could comprehend he drew his fist back and punched me square on the nose, the pain blossoming behind my eyes as my head was flung against the back of the chair. My head throbbed and my nose felt swollen, though fortunately not painful enough to be broken. I couldn’t tell whether it was bleeding or not though.

He grabbed my chin and directed my face towards his while my eyes struggled to focus and my head reeled. He stared at me intensely and I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. It was only then I noticed this sexual energy buzzing around us, invading our senses and swarming around our heads like flies.

In a movement just as fast as the punch he lurched forwards and kissed me furiously, one hand wrapping around my neck, keeping it pressed against the back of the chair as his tongue reached down the back of my throat. I was not entirely against this new treatment, but it would have been far better if my head wasn’t pounding and my nose throbbing. His other hand was free to wander down my chest, pressing his palm against the curves of my body while my heart pounded against my chest.

I only knew I was bleeding when he released me I saw the blood staining his upper lip and the tip of his nose.

He drew his fist back again and punched me in the jaw, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth as the inside of my mouth was cut up by my teeth. He kissed me again and I wasn’t sure what sensation I should focus on; the pain in my jaw or the tongue that the man was forcing down my throat. Both were vying for my attention, but neither was strong enough to fully take my focus so I was left with a confusing mush of the two, mixed between pain and pleasure, blood and romance, tears and seduction.

When he pulled back he was breathing heavily but his face was neutral, a mask that I couldn’t decipher. Had he always felt this sexual energy between us, had I been so stupid that I couldn’t comprehend it? Did he want to do that to me? Or was this just another way for him to break his clients?

With a decisive grunt he turned on his heel and left the room, leaving me confused and hurting, although not as pained as I should have been after a session with the most dangerous man alive.

 *

After another session of being looked after by the henchmen, the man returned the next day, his gaze lowered as he slowly shut the door behind him.

“Sorry for leaving so abruptly yesterday.” He apologised, lifting his gaze to mine.

“You’re forgiven.” I spat sarcastically. He ignored my comment, he simply approached me with some element of caution.

“It’s just, you gave me something yesterday I hadn’t had in a long time.” He breathed, coming to kneel beside me.

“And what’s that?” I expected him to say something meaningful; love, compassion, hell, I’d even settle for an equal. But that’s not who this man was.

“A hard on.” He sighed, standing up slowly. I caught sight of the crotch on his trousers and lifted my gaze quickly, a blush rising to my cheeks.

“And I didn’t know what to do with it. Of course, now I know precisely what to do with it.” His hand slowly dragged up my thigh and my legs automatically drew closer together.

“Don’t go squeamish on me now love.” He scolded, lifting his hand from my thigh only to start working on the buttons on my blouse.

“Taking my fingernails is one thing. Taking my… body is quite another.” I protested, trying to ignore my hammering heart and the excitement pooling in the pit of my stomach. This was sick, perverted.

“Is it though? I think society puts far too much emphasis on ownership on your own body.” He said, making quick work on my buttons with his skilled fingers.

He drew my blouse open with even hands, exposing my bra and bare torso, his eyes now able to see every shaking breath of mine, every gasp, every breath caught in the back of my throat. I gulped, watching him eye my chest greedily. He licked his upper lip as he dragged his thumb along the indentations of my rib-bones, teasing me as he came so close to my bra.

“I think society puts just the right amount of emphasis on it.” I retorted, ever so slightly out of breath.

“You would. You’re not the one staring at this.” He grinned toothily at me before retrieving a knife from some hidden compartment on his person. I tensed, but he merely used it to tear the blouse forcefully from my body without having to release me from the chair, the sound of ripping fabric making me shudder.

Then his hand was back on my thigh, blade still in hand as he dragged it up. He watched my face, enjoying me squirm until he placed the blade next to my waist and this time ripped the skirt from my body. So I was left facing the madman in only my underwear, red in the face and panting heavily.

“Aren’t you a sight?” He smirked at me. I merely scowled back.

Still smiling, he perched himself on top of my lap, his hands hovering over my breasts as if he were scared to touch them. With agonizing slowness, he took his blade and put it under the strap of my bra. In one clean motion he snapped the thin strap of fabric, making me flinch. Then he turned to the other, breaking it just as cleanly as the first. I clenched my teeth as his hands scrabbled at my underarms, getting me to lift my chest closer to his so he could reach around and undo the back of my bra.

I took a deep breath, looking to the ceiling and exhaled as he drew the bra from my body. I closed my eyes, lips pursed. I didn’t want to see it, I could imagine his reaction and even the imaginary version of him repulsed me so I refused to open my eyes.

“You’re being coy.” He whispered and I felt soft fingertips drag along my collar-bone, then down my front to the swell of my breast. He caressed it softly before pinching my nipple sharply, making me gasp and my eyes snapped open.

He was staring at me and his eyes were smoldering. I thought that that might make it worse, but somehow it just made it better.

He retrieved his blade again, dragging it down my front just hard enough to leave a thin white mark. The blade settled on the waistband of my knickers and my hips rolled, trying to escape from the invasion. This time he dealt with it quickly, snapping both sides of the waistband before pulling my underwear off and throwing them across the room.

“You can’t act coy when you’re already wet for me.” He spat crudely, abruptly running his hand over my mound so all of my breath escaped me, my body rising in the chair.

He continued massaging between my thighs, making me squirm and grimace, hating this pleasure that he was giving me. If only you were able to control your feelings instead of them being roughly forced upon you by your body and mind.

“Fuck you.” I growled, my hands clenching into fists at my side.

“You will, shortly.” He smirked, suddenly removing his hand and instead using it to start to work on the leather straps around my wrists. I looked to him in confusion, watching him open one strap, then the other. And then the two around my ankles until I was free, completely and utterly free. I thought I would feel empowered when I finally lost those leather straps and that metal chair, but somehow it felt worse. I felt so vulnerable and exposed, somehow being tied down felt safer when around that man.

He jerked me to my feet by my hair, angling my face towards his so he could kiss me roughly.

“Go and kneel by that wall.” He gestured and I followed his instructions, wincing at the cold concrete on my knees and shins.

“Hands on the wall.” He dictated and I hesitantly placed my hands on the white tiles.

I heard him rummaging about in that duffel bag of his again so I turned around, but dearly regretted it afterwards. Now I knew what he was toying with in his hands, what he was about to use on me with relish. A whip.

“How experienced are you with that?” My voice shook as I turned to face the wall again.

“You’d be surprised.” He casually snapped the whip and I jumped only to realise it was a practice shot, probably just to scare me.

“It’s old fashioned, but I like it.” He uttered while I kept my eyes fixed on the white tiled wall.

He cracked his whip again and hit my back but he was apprehensive, it didn’t even break the skin. The second time he wasn’t as tender, however, and the whip cut into me, the sound of breaking flesh making my stomach flip, along with the pain that shot up and down my back. I cried out and automatically lifted my hand to cover my mouth.

“Keep your hands on the wall.” He ordered in a low tone so I reluctantly placed my hand back onto the cool tiles.

Every time I struggled to keep my palms flat on the wall, they kept curling into themselves and twitching involuntarily while I was struck repeatedly with the thin whip, my whole back burning and feeling like it was going to melt off. Tears were stinging my eyes and I felt sick to my stomach, it was all just pain, too much pain.

I thought I heard the door open and shut behind me in my bleary haze, and my suspicions were confirmed when I heard a German voice ring through the room.

“Ah, Mr Deadly. Still vorking on her?”

The man cracked the whip again one more time, just for good measure, as I sharply inhaled, shoulders tensing.

“Yes sir. She’s proving… difficult.” The man lied, heavy boots suddenly approaching me.

He gripped my shoulder, lifting me up from my kneeling position before forcing my back against the wall. The cool tiles were a welcome relief for my burning back but I could feel the blood smear against it as he kept his forearm pressed against my neck. The German looked uncomfortable at my nudity by tried not to show it as he surveyed me coolly.

“Who do you work for?” The man asked me harshly, the pressure on my neck building.

“I’ve told you, no-one.” I just managed to gasp out, playing along.

“You see?” He released his grip suddenly but kept his hand on my neck to stop me from slumping to the floor in a heap. “I’ll be done with her soon.”

“Good. And zen you may kill her.” The German nodded before abruptly turning on his heel and leaving the room.

I warily looked to the man, his eyes watching the door to make sure the German wasn’t returning before he kissed me fiercely, his tongue reaching down the back of my throat and his teeth skimming across my lower lip. He dragged his nails down my belly, leading his hand to my entrance where he inserted a finger into my already wet hole. I tensed, lifting up onto my tip-toes as the odd sensation overwhelmed me. It hurt, but not nearly as much as my back did in that moment and so I focused more on the hint of pleasure that sparked in my system.

“Good girl.” The man muttered, his head angled so close to mine that I couldn’t see his facial expression, but I was almost sure that he was smiling.

Then another finger, this time the pleasure definitely overriding the pain. The third made me quiver, my mouth falling open as I gasped heavily.

I could feel him working at his trousers as he kissed me and my pulse dropped, blood running cold as I realised this was the moment. He grabbed my thigh, lifting my leg up as he prepared to enter me.

In one violent thrust he was inside of me. I cried out and he quickly reached up to cover my mouth with his thin fingers, digging into the flesh of my cheek. I wasn’t sure whether it always felt this good, or whether the severe blood loss played a part in it. Either way, it felt so fucking good as he thrust inside of me, making me weak and needy for his enthusiasm.

As he thrust harder and faster my vision grew hazier and I felt the blood smear against the tiles behind me, the blood loss really getting to me as we both drew near climax. In that moment he lost control, growling animalistically as he thrust even deeper and came inside of me, grunting and gripping so tightly onto me that I was sure he bruised me.

I wasn’t sure whether I came or not, I was so dizzy and out of sorts that I collapsed to the floor the moment he let go of me, the world for the next few minutes a hazy and blurry mess of metal chair legs and black polished boots.

I became only vaguely aware of my surroundings as I felt myself being lifted from the floor. Something cold and stinging hit my already throbbing back and my body automatically flinched away but firm arms kept me in place as the salve was applied to my whole back. Then I felt my body leave the floor and in that feeling of weightlessness I passed out, delirious and slightly hysterical.

 *

I woke up in a white room. Well, as white as you can get in an abandoned warehouse. I was lying on a bed, still naked and my head was reeling, but I forced myself upright anyway. Seeing something as human as a bed made me feel like it wasn’t real, this was some kind of delusion my brain made up to help me cope. I had to explore.

I got up off of the bed, looking down at the sheets that were smudged with blood, my blood. Reaching up to my back I felt for the whip marks and was surprised to find many of them scabbed over already. The room was bare and industrial, but there was a proper bed and even a small bedside table that had a simplistic lamp sitting on top of it. I debated hanging myself from the electrical cord before deciding against it; I had to at least know why I was in this room. Plus, where would I hang it from?

I looked back to the bed and saw a tangle of cloth lying on the floor beside it. I approached it cautiously; it must have been sitting on the end of the bed before a human was included in the equation. As I picked it up it unfolded into an article of clothing and when I pulled it over my head I realised that it was a white hospital-looking gown. It was far too large and didn’t exactly flatter me, but it was better than those clothes that were torn in two.

My head snapped to the door when I heard someone opening it, but the person who stepped through the threshold was the last person I wanted to see in that moment. I would’ve preferred the German’s brainwashed henchmen over him.

“‘Ello love.” He smirked at me arrogantly while I tried to figure out how to stand in front of my captor, putting far too much thought into my arm position when I should have been thinking about screaming and running away.

“You like your room?”

“Oh yes. How many women have you brought back here?” I asked sarcastically.

“None, actually. I can’t bring anyone here until I’m sure they won’t kill themselves.” He raised his eyebrow at me, daring me to shudder.

“How can you be so sure I won’t kill myself?” I asked tersely, lifting my chin.

Silently he stepped forward and gripped my hands, flipping my wrists over before smiling.

“Because you haven’t tried it yet.” He said matter-of-factly. I snatched my hands back, stepping out of his reach again.

He lifted his arms in the air in surrender, walking backwards so he could lean against the opposite wall, his arms crossed, biceps bulging.

“How are you?” He asked, unusually earnest. I was caught off-guard by the question and fidgeted for a few moments before answering.

“In pain.” I said shortly.

He smiled automatically, excited by the mere thought of my pain before he quickly corrected himself, his mouth straightening.

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“What do you want from me?” I asked quickly, not trusting his 'kind’ act for a second.

He sighed, looking to the ceiling before looking back to me.

“I want you to want me. In the same way that I want you.” He stated bluntly.

“You’ve already had me.” I spat.

“And yet I’m still wanting.” His eyes were burning as they wandered to mine.

I stepped towards him, my heart hammering in my chest as I got so close my toes were touching the tip of his boots and his face angled down towards mine. We breathed the same air, my head reeling and his eyes closing.

“Fuck. Off.” I enunciated clearly, stepping away from him rapidly, back towards the bed where I felt safer.

He started laughing heartily, looking at me out of the corner of his eyes with a sly look. His laughter died down and he rubbed his chin with the back of his hand.

“You’re gutsy.” He commented, barely glancing at me.

“I have nothing more to fear.” I murmured softly.

His gaze slowly lifted to mine and a smile twisted at his lips. It was such a sinister look that my hands clenched into fists subconsciously by my sides. Then he turned on his heel and left the room abruptly.

 *

I want you to want me. In the same way that I want you.

Ever since he said that something clicked. I did want him now. I don’t know whether it was because he stated what he wanted out loud or the fact that he left me in a room on my own for hours of my own.

I hated that my heart raced whenever I thought of him. I’d bite my lip and my hand would wander down between my legs before I would even realise what I was doing. Then I’d check myself, and mentally scold my hand, but I knew I was already in too deep, there was no way I was going to see him in any other way after this.

I had to get out of here. I started looking around the room for ways to escape; there were no windows and the door was firmly locked. I scoured the floor for something resembling a hairpin so I could at least attempt to pick the lock but there was nothing. I looked to the lamp again, but instead of seeing it as a way out I saw it as a means of escape. I picked it up in my hands, testing out the weight of it. It was disappointingly light, but perhaps if swung with enough force…

I unplugged it from the wall and positioned myself by the door, waiting for that moment when he would walk in. I had one shot at this. I couldn’t fuck it up.

I stood up rapidly when I heard footsteps outside the door and surely enough the door clicked open. As soon as the figure passed the threshold I swung at where his head should have been, but I missed. I wasn’t quite sure whether it was my aim or his reflexes, but it did confuse him and in that second of abstraction I tried to shove past him through the door.

I could taste freedom when hands gripped my waist and I was dragged backwards, the door kicked closed with some force. I struggled against the hands, kicking and punching fiercely, not caring where I hit him, just trying to come in contact with anything that would hinder. Soon the hands overpowered me though, my arms pinned to my sides and my back forced against a wall so hard that my head cracked against it.

The man was breathing heavily, pinning my hands behind my back, making sure that I couldn’t struggle away from his grip again. His body was so close to mine and I could feel the heat radiating off of him, making my heart rate increase. Then he produced his knife.

“I was gonna cut you a deal.” He teased me, bringing his knife up to my face, making me flinch away.

“I don’t want your fucking handouts.” I spat, struggling against his grip but he held firm.

“Oh, you will.” He exhaled, his breath against my neck and I squirmed away.

He poked his tongue in his cheek, bringing his knife up to my neck. I felt the sharp point of it against the hollow of my neck and I gulped audibly, feeling my forehead break out with sweat.

“Just fink, I could kill you right now.” He twisted the blade and my shoulders rose.

“I could slit your throat, watch you bleed out in front of me. Then what’d you do? Well, nothing. You’d be dead. Think of it, one moment here thinking and breathing and the next dead, gone. It’s tantalising, I ‘ave to admit.”

He stopped talking and the room was so quiet it was deafening, I watched him breathe to try and steady my own shallow breaths. Suddenly his arm seemed to slip and he made a slicing motion across my neck.

I gasped, choking on my own bile as I realised he hadn’t actually done the deed. I was gasping, my arms shaking at how close I was to death in that moment. He laughed at me, tipping my chin up with the tip of his blade.

“Remember what you’re fighting for, love.” He grinned, flicking the blade between his fingers.

“What am I fighting for?” I just managed to choke out.

“Your life.” He said shortly with a mad look playing in his eyes.

He leaned in close to me, breathing heavily and I could feel his breaths on my neck. He spread out his hand on my chest, pressing his hand against my body before running it down to my waist then my hip.

“Why do you do this?” I asked, my voice cracked as I flinched against his touch.

“Because I enjoy it.” He whispered, his hand lifting from my hip to grip onto my chin.

I kept stern eye contact with him as he leaned closer to me, his face so close to mine that his nose was brushing my own. We were breathing the same air and I felt slightly dizzy as my heart rate increased, his mouth so close to mine, but I couldn’t give in. It was him who leaned forward, taking my bottom lip in his mouth and started sucking, my hands clenching into fists behind my back. He was so naturally sexual it was difficult to not get turned on, an uncomfortable wetness pooling between my legs as he continued titillating me.

He slowly released my arms, shifting his mouth to kiss me properly, his tongue suddenly invading my mouth as I reached up impulsively, gripping the back of his neck. He rammed his hips into mine, squashing my body into the wall as I gasped into his mouth. He continued kissing me, rising onto my toes as he continued pressing me against the wall.

Then he abruptly released me, my body slumping down as I gasped, watching him wipe his mouth with his thumb, eyeing me greedily.

“Get some sleep.” He ordered, staring at me for a few seconds more before leaving the room, locking the heavy metal door behind him.

 *

I couldn’t believe that he just left me like that. I was so uncomfortable and turned on. Even if my thoughts about him were confusing I could trust that he would take whatever he wanted from me without a second thought, but this time he restrained himself and I was left doing exactly what he wanted; craving him. Lusting after him and his body and his roughness of character.

I couldn’t just give in to him now, not after all of this struggle and the pain that I had endured. I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling while I tried to ignore my desire, trying so hard that my head started to hurt and my chest tightened as I intensely stared at the ceiling.

The silence was deafening. It was a welcome relief when I heard footsteps coming down the hall, stopping at the door. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, sitting up quickly as the door opened. He stepped through into the room, closing the door behind him and locking it, the finality of it making me uneasy. But also slightly excited.

I was constantly debating in my head whether to get up or stay sitting, opening my mouth to say something before closing it again. He must have noticed something different in my demeanour because he smirked before starting towards me, swaggering arrogantly as he drank up my indecision.

He stared at me hungrily, keeping his eyes fixed on mine so intently that my whole chest imploded, all of the breath leaving my lungs. My eyes slowly wandered from his and I noticed he was twirling something between his hands, a chain with two handles on either end. This was the same as the pliers; I knew vaguely what it would be used for, but I didn’t know the exact purpose of the chain.

“The German is startin’ to get suspicious.” He spoke, breaking the silence, making me flinch.

He reached me and while he stood at my feet he took my chin in his hands, angling my head towards his as he sighed. It felt like he was waiting for me to say something.

“So?”

I tried to have that sharp edge to my voice but all of my conviction was gone. I couldn’t even make myself sound disinterested, so I just ended up sounding needy and pathetic.

He let go of my chin abruptly before fiddling with that chain again, my eyes fixing onto it as I swallowed audibly.

He got up onto the bed beside me, kneeling so the mattress dipped and I struggled not to lean in towards him. He maneuvered himself behind me and I refused to move, refused to give in to this power play.

“So before I off you…” He muttered into my ear and the goose bumps travelled all the way up my neck.

He lowered the chain over my head, deliberately in my line of vision until I couldn’t keep track of it any more, I could only feel the cool metal against my neck. I shifted uncomfortably, knowing now what was coming next as my heart pounded so loud I could hear it in my ears. He pulled his hands around my neck, slowly cutting off my air supply until my breaths were coming out in harsh gasps and my neck was straining against the chain.

“You say you ‘ave nothing more to fear, but you don’t know the half of it love.” He whispered into my ear.

I cringed away, my brain slowly getting scrambled as my air supply was getting cut off. Then in one jerk he suddenly cut off my oxygen and I couldn’t breathe any more. My mind was in full panic mode, my vision going red as my hands scrambled at my neck, trying to tear at the chain but it was too thin and I ended up just tearing my own skin instead of the thing cutting into my neck.

The moment he loosened the chain I drew a massive gasping breath, falling forward as I regained my vision. He gripped my shoulders, pulling me back upright with force as he angled his head towards mine and started nibbling at my ear. My eyes rolled back into my head as I leaned into him, feeling his firm body behind mine. He shifted himself so his legs were pressing against mine, hard-on firm against my upper back and the broad plane of his chest expanding and sinking behind me.

“Do you want to die?” He asked me, chain shifting against my neck.

“No.” I choked out. There literally couldn’t have been more desperation in my voice.

“Hm.”

'Hm’ was not a reassuring noise, especially as a garrote is tightening around your neck. He cut off my air supply fully again but this time he held it for a second too long, my panicked body actually blinding me, sending my vision into complete darkness. I sucked in air the moment he released me, steadily increasing my oxygen levels, but not regaining my vision. In that time of panicked blindness he didn’t give me a second for recovery as he wrenched me around, yet again suffocating me but this time it was with a furious kiss with the chain still encircled around my neck. I blinked rapidly until the light started filtering back into my eyes and I felt slightly more sane, enthralled again by him and his passion.

It was then my mind snapped. He was ready and willing to kill me and I was completely and utterly infatuated with him. It was too late to consider morals or perceptions. In this mindset and in this moment I had one thing that I wanted to do before I died. I turned towards him, carefully sliding the chain around my neck, eyes dilated with lust as I reached for his trousers. I fumbled with the fastenings as I couldn’t look down with his grip on the chain around my neck so I had to look at his arrogant features as I needily palmed his crotch.

“You’re desperate, aren'tcha?” He smirked but I could hear the breathlessness in his voice too.

I finally undid his trousers, still palming his crotch through his underwear before releasing his half-hard cock, feeling the weight of it in my hands. He was trying to appear cool and disinterested but I could hear his breathing growing more and more shallow and his eyes were gradually starting to mirror the lust that was in mine.

He couldn’t take not leading for long though, and soon was wrenching the makeshift dress over my head with a growl. He grabbed at my waist roughly while I still fumbled with his dick and his head dipped into the crook of my neck where he sucked at the sensitive skin, making me shudder into him. He used his knees to spread my legs apart while I still kneeled on the bed and his firm hand travelled from my waist down to my crotch. He was kind this time, rubbing rhythmically between my legs before edging a finger inside of me. My body extended upwards and my hands tightened around his penis and I could feel it twitch against my palms as he inhaled sharply through his teeth.

He slipped another finger inside of me and my muscles contracted around him as I whimpered from the back of my throat. His mouth twitched as he heard my desperation, obviously turning him on as he buried his fingers up to the knuckles inside of me and I squirmed. I swallowed audibly as I steadied myself against him, fingers curling against his chest.

“What are you going to do to me, mister deadly?” I asked him patronisingly, using the German’s nickname on him.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you cum, and as you cum I’ll strangle the life outta ya.” He said, twitching the garotte around my neck.

I should have been horrified. But now everything he said was merely words that had the ability to excite me, shooting lust straight to my groin. He pinched my nipples and the breath caught in the back of my throat, the twinge flying up and down my spine in one fluid motion.

“Please.” I whimpered, clawing at his shirt.

“I like watching you beg.” He said complacently, reaching up to angle my face towards his. “Do it again.”

“Please. I want to feel you inside me, please.” I spoke breathlessly, feeling his fingers shifting inside of me.

“Almost.” He grinned, removing his fingers and suddenly I felt empty, I wanted to feel him inside me again.

He had a sadistic look on his face as he lifted his slick fingers to my mouth. He searched my eyes, seeing how willing I was to follow this through, right until the very end. I had already thrown myself at him, but now I was reluctant to open my mouth for him. I did so slowly, unsure as to where to focus my eyes as he forced his fingers inside of my mouth and I could taste myself on his tongue. I could feel his fingertips touch the back of my throat and I gagged, stomach contracting as his fingers kept my mouth wedged open.

“Such a good girl.” He mumbled, removing his fingers.

Tears were collected in the corner of my eyes and my cheeks were flushed as he removed my hands from his dick, taking it for himself and with the other hand he thrust my hips towards his. He positioned himself at my entrance and my mouth fell open as I waited with bated breath. Then in one fluid motion he slammed himself inside of me and I screamed, body extending upwards as I exhaled shakily while he got used to the sensation of being inside of me. He had done this to me before but I still wasn’t used to it, the force he used hitting me anew every time.

He thrust in and out of me furiously and buried his head in the crook of my neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin while I breathed erratically. His hands wrapped around my waist firmly, fingernails digging into my flesh so he could pull me towards and away from him vigorously. I whined as he ploughed his full length inside of me again and I could hear his breath catch in the back of his throat. After that he thrust even more senselessly than before, grunting rhythmically while my whines and moans bounced off the walls.

He thrust faster and faster and his hands lifted from my waist to the garrotte still looped around my neck. We both were close as he tightened the garrotte around my neck and my mind span into overdrive, simultaneously gasping and choking as he hit just the right spot and I started cummings. Me losing control drove him over the edge and as he was in the throes of passion his hands slowly pulled further and further apart making it more and more difficult for it to breathe. We both came and my vision blurred as I looked to the ceiling as I passed out.

 *

I came to on the bed. This couldn’t be right. I was still alive, staring blearily at the dirty warehouse walls. In my peripheral vision I could see him dressing himself, while my head span and I tried to collect my thoughts. I tried speaking but nothing came out. My throat was shot and it was unlikely that I’d speak with comfort for a couple days. I sat up with difficulty and he looked back at me over his shoulder.

“Why am I not dead?” My voice was high and reedy but at least something came out this time.

His jaw tightened and he turned back away from me, looking down as he buckled up his belt. I fought to stand upright and did so shakily while staring at him. He turned back to me, fully dressed as he looked me up and down and I saw his lips twitch. I was concerned that he was after a round two as he leaned over but when he stood back upright he had my clothes in his hands, the clothes from the very beginning of our encounter, bloodied and ripped as they were. He gently but firmly started dressing me, wrapping the tatters of my shirt around my torso and stepping me into my skirt while I relied entirely on his even hands.

“I thought you were going to kill me.” I said softly.

His jaw shifted, and he stared intensely at my clothes.

“I didn’t feel like it.” He shrugged, speaking dismissively.

“Thank you.” I said, barely loud enough to be heard but I was sure he did hear me.

“Leave.” He stepped away suddenly and gave me such a stern order that I hesitated.

I looked towards the door then back to him, confusion marring my features.

“What about the German?” I asked as an afterthought.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He smirked and my mouth twitched into a smile.

I nodded, looking at the door again. I started towards it on shaking legs, before hesitating, biting my lip. I doubled back slightly, standing in front of him and staring up at his face, taking in all of his features. Then I gently placed my lips on his and he responded with relish, opening his mouth and gripping his hand on the back of my head. I parted our lips, placing my hand on his chest before starting back towards the door.

“Out of curiosity,” he commented and I looked back at him. “Were you working for anyone?”

“I’d never tell you that.” I smirked.

I slipped out of my cell door, then down the stairs to the floor of the warehouse and out into the blinding whiteness of the outside world.