Page 38 of Mercy & Malice

“Who else would know to use this against us?”

“Twenty seconds,” Judge singsongs. “What shall it be?”

“I can’t hit you or rape you. I won’t do it.”

I have to pick the lesser of two evils. Neither sounds fun. But I’m used to a random beating. Being violated sexually, even if I’m giving Micah the okay, seems worse. “I’ll choose. Use the belt. It’s my body, and I’m the one deciding. You don’t have a choice.” Neither of us do.

“Five, four,” Judge counts down.

Warden whistles, “Almost my turn.”

“Micah,” I shriek and he finally says, “Belt, you dead motherfucker.”

Warden snatches the belt then throws it at us. “Damn, thought it’d be my lucky day.”

I’ve never been a violent person, but at this moment, I visualize wrapping the belt around his throat and stabbing him in the dick with a rusty fork.

When I move in front of Micah, he won’t look at me. “It’ll be over soon,” I whisper to both of us.

Turning, I steel myself. Between being cold and wet, I know this is going to hurt like hell.

Warden instructs, “Take off the shirt, turn your ass to us, and bend over. Might as well enjoy the show.”

I glare at Warden as he grabs a chair then makes a show of reaching under his robe and unlatching his jeans before he sits, the fabric hiked up to show him jerking off.

Bile rises in my throat as I turn away from him and pull the saturated shirt off and drop it to the floor then bend forward.

I’m humiliated and ashamed as I look back at Micah who looks like he’s about to vomit too.

“I won’t count again. You’ll pay in flesh,” Judge threatens.

Micah swings the belt, the leather stinging across my butt.

Judge laughs, “You can do better than that.”

I brace myself for the next hit. It’s a bit harder, then nothing.

“Keep going until I tell you to stop.”

“I’m so sorry,” Micah mutters, and with every hit comes another apology or plea to forgive him.

My skin is so raw and painful, I don’t think I’ll be able to sit on it for days.

Finally, Judge declares, “Well done.”

Micah moves to stand at the edge of the cage in front of Judge, the belt in his hand.

“Return it,” Judge demands.

I grab the damp shirt off the floor, covering myself as Warden keeps jerking off as I look away.

A few seconds tick by before Micah slings the belt out. The asshat only seems amused as he stands from his seat, moves a few feet from the cage. “It’s only going to get harder from here.”

Collector shoves the clothes and towels through the bars. Then they all casually stroll out like they didn’t revoltingly torture us.

As soon as they’re out of sight, Micah collapses to his knees. I walk over to him, placing my hand on his shoulder. He recoils, lunging away from me as he yells, “Don’t fucking touch me.” He falls forward on his hands, heaving and coughing. “You can’t comfort me.”

Unsure what to do, I don’t move as he rises to his feet and scrutinizes me.