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Spreading out.

When he returned from cleaning up, she would be curled up in a ball and asleep on the bed, passed out from her rough fucking.

She never had a better Master, lover, and protector. Her eyes became glossy thinking of what he could be doing at that moment. She could imagine him, crying and calling her name. A few tears that she couldn't control rolled down her cheeks.

~

The pain was unbearable. Every muscle ached and trembled. Her arms strained; her wrists stretched. She felt that her arms were going to detach at the wrists. She wanted to lie on the floor, even if it was covered with rat dung and blood. Complete darkness surrounded her. Every once in a while, she heard noises and voices come from the house, then fade away. She wanted to hear more. She needed to hear that they were still with her. She had to know they didn't leave her to die, shackled and alone.

The want to die grew stronger. The wait was excruciating. She hoped her life would end with a simple question: head or chest? Other possibilities brought her close to throwing up on herself. Burning to death, drowning, electrocution, disembowelment - all caused her to shake more. If they did give her the option to take a bullet, she wasn't sure which to pick. She didn't know which was a quicker, less painful death.

It was only fair to go with a shot through her chest. She murdered her Master's heart. She should be punished as so.

Glowing balls and streaks of light flashed around the room. A young girl said, "I love you," into her ear. A radio playing classical music was somewhere in the room. Faces, evil and innocent, appeared in front of her. She hung her head and closed her eyes to block out the hallucinations.

"It will be over soon," she whispered through her parched mouth. A small speck of hope that her Master would rescue her kept her strong enough to withstand the torture.

~

Piss streamed down her leg. She moaned every few seconds. She was too tired to cry. It was difficult to distinguish the voices on the other side of the door and the voices of demons that growled at her, encouraging her to give up. Her last bit of mental energy concentrated fully on the question she was too scared to face: what would happen to her soul? The good deeds she did in life came to her memory, but they were soon clouded by the sins she committed. The times she helped her sadistic ex-boyfriend would make her resume for heaven heavily blemished. She never gave too much thought about the afterlife, if there was one. But she trembled with the horrifying judgment of an eternity in hell. If any or all religions were correct all along, she feared what would happen as soon as the bullet pierced her heart. She said an awkward prayer, a plea, to whoever was in charge, that her soul would be spared from burning in the fiery abyss. She concluded the prayer with a wish that her life would be over soon.

Slowly, she lifted her head when yelling and scuffling came from behind the door. Men shouted over each other. A couple howled in pain. Doors slammed against the walls as they were thrown open. Her head fell. A few tears dropped to the ground. Her time had come.

The door crashed into the wall. She couldn't see the person who barged in. She felt the gag slip from her mouth. Her ankles were released. She buckled and put more strain on her wrists. A body, a man, put his weight against her to keep her up right as her untied her wrists. She moaned loudly as pain shot through her body. Dizziness made her fall into the man's arms. He carefully flipped her over his shoulder and carried her out of the room.

Her eyes were blurry but she was able to make out the scene around her. Men handcuffed other men. A few of her captures gave her dirty looks. The cool, outdoor air kept her conscious until she was gently set in the backseat of a car. The car's familiar smell made her feel safe enough to close her eyes and give in to her exhaustion.

~

Most of the pain dissipated when she woke up.

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