I am having fun with this one.
The scalpel separated the flesh perfectly and effortlessly. It was so sharp that it had traversed nearly the entire perimeter of the base of his foot before he had even felt it. When he did, however, the scream was otherworldly.
I suppose the foggy ether of dilauded had caused him to forget the conversation we had engaged in mere minutes ago. I warned him—I swear.
He pulled his leg back to remove it from the blades vicinity, only to receive a quick reminder of the neat little trick I had played on him with the piano wire. I wanted him to have the ability to make choices. He had—to this point in his life—made some rather bad ones. It was only fair that he be given the opportunity to minimize his pain.
The table to which he presently found himself fastened had seven tiny holes drilled through it; one near each ankle; one near each wrist; one under each ear; and one directly below his manhood. A piece of piano wire looped through each hole forming a slipknot on the underside of the table. I laid him, carefully, on the table when I first brought him to this place. One at a time, the makeshift shackles were fitted over their corresponding body parts. Gently, I tightened them to snug—enough to restrict movement but not reduce circulation. When he first woke, I made him fully aware of his predicament. Arrogance got the better of him and he tested my honesty. Needless to say, the wires are tighter now than when I affixed them.
The wire was firmly gorged into the flesh around his ankle now. Small purple mountains formed as his blood came to the makeshift road block. His eyes welled with tears as he saw my intent to inflict the same incision at the base of the other foot. This time, however, he did not make the mistake of trying to pull away.
The cut was much easier with less movement to deal with. Oh the strength of will he must have summoned to keep from pulling away. The tears flowed over his cheeks now, and his body shuttered violently under the duress his mind was placing on it. Every fiber of his being wanted to convulse his entire body in hopes of freeing him from the ties that currently bound him. Why—you might wonder—did he not?
The simple answer—one that he would never have admitted to me—is that—once the initial shock of his current predicament had worn off—he had recognized his current surroundings. the plantation blinds on the window had been his first clue. I saw his eyes affix on them the moment they had opened. The wild dance began from there. Darting, left first, then right, he quickly to stock of his environment. The mahogany shelves filled with softball trophies; six pictures of him and the prized bucks he had slain; the large mahogany desk with the dell computer, sitting directly in front of the aforementioned window; and, finaly, the clock. Yes that was the most important piece; not because his wife had given it to him as an office warming gift on the day he had opened his practice; but rather because the time it now read was exactly eight forty five am. There were only ten short minutes until his office staff would start to shuffle through the front door. Ten short minutes until he could scream for there attention and, hopefully, survive the horror that he was currently living through. All he had to do was wait—and hope that I was in no rush.
I saw this realization in his eyes and my heart smiled. This was going to go much better than expected.
“I am going to take my time engineering your suffering.” I said, leaning in close and whispering as if I did not want anyone outside of our little hell to hear me.
His eyes twitched nervously as I gazed into them. Fear and hope made love to each other there. Pain—he new—was unavoidable, but, death could be held at bay. All he had to do was endure, five, ten minutes at most. There were at least three girls on the schedule today. There was no way for me to get them all before one of them made it to the street. From there the jig would be up. Never mind that one, or more, of them might have to die to set him free. Trust me when I tell you that a thought such as that never crossed his mind. All he knew was that HE could survive this situation. And—for a person such as himself—that was enough.
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