“Oh yes, I love filling your stomach, getting you comfortable, having you under the impression that kindness is going to be bestowed on you after what you endured at the auction house, and then having you wake up here. It is always the same, and the delight that washes over me knowing it was all premeditated andI was the puppet master the entire time, it's unmatched,” Martin joyfully reveals.
“You’re a sadistic fuck,” I snarl, shaking my head at him.
“Oh, Cassidy, I am just a wealthy man who gets bored with his wife and can come down here and let this little persona of mine out of his cage. I get off on pain. In fact, I wish I could bottle it up and bathe in it.”
I’m frozen, but I must keep him talking. He is a narcissist and loves talking about himself, so I will just play the part of ignorance, which I am sure he will just eat up.
“What kind of pain?” I wince, not wanting an in-depth answer from him.
“Every kind, but physical pain is what really does it for me. I love watching blood flow from another’s body from what I inflicted. I have been obsessively going through scenarios about exactly what I want to do to you tonight since you have been sleeping, and I haven’t come to a decision yet.”
“Sleeping? You drugged me!” I spat at him angrily.
“Same thing. You were quite fond of the milk.” He shrugs indifferently.
I think back to the glass of milk he gave me. He was across the room when he grabbed the glasses. He could have crushed anything into the glass and had it prepared before I even got there.
Just like an innocent lamb, so naïve for the slaughter.
“Look at your tight little body.” He lays his hand on his bulge, stroking it up and down. “We really are going to have the best time together.” He nuzzles the side of my neck, inhaling deeply
“I doubt that,” I snap back.
He goes over to his tools of torture again, walking back and forth, causing chills to break out across my skin.
My hands are numb, having lost all feeling, and my head hangs down, wishing my mind could drift away from here.
Martin selects surgical-looking pliers. They are silver and appear to be about two feet long.
Holy fucking shit. This guy really does get off on extreme torture.
Sucking on my bottom lip as firmly as possible, I try to prevent myself from shaking.
“I love inflicting pain on others. The screams, the crying, the fear, the helplessness, and the begging, all of it gets me off in a way nothing else does,” he whispers more to himself than to me. “I spend all day in the OR, operating on patients that are asleep and can’t feel the pain I’m inflicting.”
Of course, I would get a sadist as my master.
He clasps the top of a metal chair and tows it over until he is sitting about three feet in front of me. He props one of his ankles on top of his thigh so that he can rest the pliers on his lap.
“The goal is not to mar you just yet. You are my new plaything. I want to extend my time with you as long as possible. I wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty face of yours, at least not for a while,” he claims. eerily calm. “I will extract piece by piece from you until you are broken down to the point you plead with me to take your life. The fire will eventually leave your eyes, and it will give me immense pleasure. And so, the cycle goes on.”
“I will kill you!” I shout, not knowing where that bravery came from as it glided through my lips.
He laughs maniacally. “Many have tried throughout the years, but all have failed. You are at my disposal and have no leverage here.” He waves his hand up and down, motioning to the predicament I’m in.
“I don’t know how you and this organization have gotten away with this for so long, but I will burn it to the ground,” I boldly shriek at him.
“Oh, my dear, you do not know the half of it and all the powerful people behind it. We get away with murder while people sit on death row.” He snickers.
“Enough of the small talk; let's get started, shall we?”
He advances on me, with deviance coursing through him. Holding up the pliers, he opens and shuts them, letting me see how sharp they are and boasting a huge smile. Circling my bruised nipple, it slices into me, and I cry out, tears forming in the corner of my eyes before falling freely down my cheeks. He licks the trail of tears before they reach my chin. I resist the urge to scream out. I don't want to give him that power, but it only encourages him further.
The blood slowly drips down the length of my body, and he watches it with the precision of a predator.
Taking a step back, he absorbs the sight before him and sets about undressing.
His socks and designer shoes come off first, and he puts them on the chair next to his belt, pants, and custom-made dress shirt, all neatly stacked in a pile.
