Freedom

Part 16: My Turn

Jerome hummed and he tied Danica's feet and her right hand to his bed accordingly. He grabbed her left hand in both of his, appreciatively observing her sweaty palm. Jerome grabbed a rope, gazing down at his lover with interest.

He indicated the rope with a pointed eye, and started to tie it with expertise, this way and that way, over and under—until he had a devil's knot—it was a noose. However, it was particularly smaller for her hand. Danica made a nervous smile. Jerome latched her hand through the noose, tightening it roughly—Danica uttered a grunt of pain as the rope tug too tightly into her skin. Jerome lowered his face to hers, so close, and he smiled very big.

"You know what, kitten?" he said. "Although your game had some merit, I thought of a few things we could do tonight to specifically guarantee that I wouldn't harm that guard. For you, you can be satisfied with liquid trinkets and some coo-coo pills. Takes a bit more for me to be convinced."

Jerome wiggled his fingers and artificially conjured five methamphetamine pills from of her stash in his hand.

Danica met his eyes. She had already taken enough to give her the right amount of WOO; though it seemed that Jerome deemed it necessary to keep her going at a dangerous level.

"Jerome," she cautioned.

"Ah-ah," he cut her off. "Open up, baby."

Danica rolled her eyes, and opened her mouth.

"Tongue."

She stuck out her tongue.

Jerome popped the pills in his mouth and latched his lips onto hers. Danica felt his tongue exchange the pills into her mouth during the kiss. When he knew that she had no choice but to swallow them before the nasty dissolve happened, he pulled away. He placed two fingers on her chin and pulled down to see if the drugs were hiding in her cheek or under tongue.

"Good girl," he cooed approvingly. "Just keep doing as I say, and this game will be okey-dokey. You let me know if you start feeling like you're gonna die, hey?"

He quickly went to his feet and strode around the bed. Humming, he reached under the bed and pulled out a dark plastic bag.

"I went to Sionis also," he explained, lightly shaking the bag with delight, "a few party favors. Looks like there might be talk in the morning, what with you asking for rope and me asking for—" he playfully put a hand around his mouth, "Oops! Can't kiss and tell. Almost spoiled the whole night."

Danica's face felt flushed, and an overwhelming surge of heat flashed her whole body. There was the familiar pull of the stimulant, that push and pull of euphoria, concentration, surrender, and a desire to fucking kill somebody. Jerome watched Danica's body squirm. He enjoyed this dearly; he liked this side of her. She wasn't fighting the whole ordeal, but she did say that she wrestled with the idea of staying still while under the influence. Oh yeah, there was also the homicidal plea with it too. That's why he decided restraint would be a good idea.

Danica panted, sweating relentlessly. Her toes curled at the bottom of the bed. If anyone could see this scene, they would have thought that she was being tortured. Perhaps she was.

But fuck it.

Jerome snapped his fingers at her,
"Baby. You still tuned in?"

"Yep," Danica strained, looked up at him.

"Great." Jerome withdrew a paddle from the plastic bag. "You know, I had a lot of time with these when I was a kid. But I think I have grown fond of them over the years. How about you?"

"Can't say that I have." Danica said.