Play Time
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- Parts 1
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Mon, Oct 15, 2018
I wasn't use to this, it was creepy watching him smirk at me, some reason i was into it?
He gestured me to him but he was still scaring me in a way. I looked the other way, ignoring him. He must be on something to think i'm going to him.
He seemed fed up, walking over to me he lifted my head up from my chin.
"I know you see me." he looked angrily.
i nodded my head. i know i saw him, that doesn't i'm going to him, he's not going to get me that easy. i continued to ignore him playing hard to get.
He shook his head. i think he noticed i was playing hard to get.
He removed his hand from my chin and smirked. He wrapped his hand around my throat suddenly so tight i began to choke losing the air.
He leaned into me, feeling his breath basically in my mouth, his lips were so close i felt the force in his voice.
"I said your going to play with me."
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The strip of leather made contact with the skin on my back. The burning pain soared and I had to grit my teeth so no noise came out. I've lost count. I can't even remember the number of times he has brought the whip down onto my back. The burning sensation cooled and for a few seconds I thought the torture had finished but my thoughts soon came crashing down. Instead of being mauled by the whip, I heard a crunch as the bones in my torso were crushed by a heavy booted foot kicking me in the side. I grunted in pain. I had been in this cell for God knows how long and it was now probably some time in the evening. "Trying to be clever are we?" His voice booms out, his voice makes me flinch. "That's what you think smart ass. But I was trying to protect her." I replied back. I shouldn't have said that because moments later I'm kicked again in the side; this time so hard that I can feel a rib sink into one of my lungs. I fly towards the opposite wall in the cell, landing on my back. The specks of dirt and dust dig into the deep cuts on my back making me suck in a quick breath. I grunt and try to get up onto my feet but I feel a firm grip on the base of my neck. Before I know it, my feet are no longer touching the ground and I'm struggling for air. This is it. I'm dying. It's all over. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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