Page 36 of Hurts So Good
Panic rose in my chest. I couldn’t breathe, and my heart began to pound in my chest so fast, I swore.
Heart attack. Now, I was having a heart attack. Trying to reach out with my hands failed because I realized they were bound behind me. Moving my hands around a bit, I could tell by the way the medal clanged and felt against my back and arms was a large pole. The sounds it made as I moved bellowed with a low pang. It must be a pole that would be in a basement.
Ouch!
Something bit me again on my inner thigh.
What. The. Fuck.
Slapping my legs back onto the icy ground, I didn’t care if it was going to burn. I just needed to stabilize my damn body.
“Okay, Tru. You’ve trained for this.”
The floor was burning my skin, but it also felt…good? Careful not to move too quickly, I slowly lifted one leg. There was a slide of something sharp, stingy…I leaned my head forward, trying to look down, and there was that material…no, it was vine-like but rough. This time, it was on my cheek and my thigh.
I moved my leg up and down several more times, testing—rope!
It was rope, not bugs biting me. Also, my hands moved down when I lifted my leg, but they moved back up into a place in which I almost would tear off my arm and shoulder when I put my leg down.
Holy crap…it burned, but it felt good, too.
I jiggled my chest. It was free of any bra or corset, and fuck me, the top covering the upper part of my body felt so good on my nipples—arousing even.
“Breathe, just breathe, Tru.”
Training checklist—focus on it. Sound.
What sounds did I hear?
Listening as best as I could, I heard nothing, even slapping my legs on the ground…I could feel it but couldn’t hear it. There were no outside, nature or city noises, and I could barely hear myself speak. The room was dead silent.
Soundproofing. Maybe the space was soundproofed? I didn’t feel like I had anything in my ears, so it had to be the room.
There was no moving air on my face, skin, or smell around me to ascertain my situation except for a slight smell of cement or basement concrete, which would track. Slowly, I stretched my fingers, moving the rope closer and closer to my core.
Why was I so fucking turned on, and why was my mouth so dry?
As I forced my lids all the way open, the walls of the room shifted in a circle like I was on a tilt-a-whirl. Spinning was not a favorite or even an acceptable activity for me. I blinked hard, desperately trying to focus in the dark.
After a long moment, I was able to make out more of the space. There were gray walls surrounding me. Following my legs, I found my ankles and feet, giving my eyes a place to focus. I wiggled them. Again, the rope, which I could now see, shifted, but this time, it slipped toward my almost bare chest.
So, my body was working, for the most part. Turning my head was gonna be iffy, but at least I was alive. Moving anywhere else wasn’t going to happen. There was nothing for me to grab to loosen my wrists, and my arms were behind me at such an odd angle that getting out of my current position was going to be impossible.
How long I’d been here was anyone’s guess, but my clothes had been changed into what looked like a white cami top and white panties. At least it wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm either. The air was truly stagnant.
Time passed as I counted the seconds to mark time, but eventually, I nodded off.
Slap.
My whole head whipped to the side. Pain ricocheted up my face and into my neck and head.
What the actual…
In front of me stood two very masculine-looking silhouettes, dressed in the same outfit with black masks covering their entire faces and gloves on their hands.
Fuck, there were no identifying features.
I would call these dark-clothed men ‘asshat one’ and ‘asshat two.’