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When Payton opened the drawer, the confused and shocked gasp I heard made my skin crawl. Claudia stopped struggling long enough to look up, morbid fascination at what awaited her outweighing her need to wail and fight.
With a shaking hand, Payton reached into the drawer, grabbed the item, and pulled it out. A massive and thick eight inch long rubber dildo. Around the entire shaft and head, heavy duty sand paper strips had been glued. The paper wasn’t even the worst part. All along the shaft shards of broken glass had been shoved through the silicone rubber. The glass glittered under the fluorescent lights like tiny knives. Seeing it a second time made bile rise at the back of my throat.
Claudia, seeing the implement, cried out and struggled in renewed fervor. Payton stared at the bastardized toy. A thing designed for pleasure rigged to cause immense and agonizing pain. Instinctively, she tried to close her legs, but the ties had been done specifically to prevent it. The way she screamed out made my legs weak.
"Momma. Momma," she screamed in mad panic, and I closed my eyes.
Payton walked over on shaky legs, holding the fake dick by the rubber handle at the end. The look of horror on his face ran deep. As I watched him, he continually swallowed, the Adam’s apple bobbing on his throat as he stood at the foot of the table, staring down Claudia's shaved pussy.
"I don’t, uh, I don’t think I can—"
"You will," Sam said. "You will, or I will call Bri in here next and tell her to cut off your cock. You know she will, don’t you? If I tell her to, she will cut off every goddamned inch of it, and smile while you scream. Now fuck this bitch to death with that cock, or you’ll be next."
Payton let out a shuddering breath, blowing his cheeks out. Already tears were leaking from his eyes. Claudia lifted her head, looking at him and shaking her head. "Don’t. Please god don’t do it to me. You can’t put that in me," she begged, sounding more and more like a small child instead of a twenty-five year old woman.
Payton lifted the rubber cock and stared at it, swallowing hard again. Probably fighting back vomit if I had to guess. My disgust and terror gave way to boiling rage. Fuck this piece of shit. Fuck him for forcing Payton to do this, and fuck him for making me be a participant. For a few seconds, I stopped caring about getting out alive. I stopped worrying about Drake, or my life before this. If you only had one chance to do the right thing, even if that thing was almost as bad, you had to do it.
Payton nudged Claudia’s legs aside, and wrapped both hands around the handle. I’d never seen a gay man stare so intently at a pussy in my life. It was now or never.
"I’m sorry, Claudia," I said, and she glanced over at me, hyperventilating. "This is the only way out for you." My voice trembled as I said it.
"I’ll try to, um, oh god. I’ll try to be fast," Payton said.
"Not as fast as me," I muttered.
Before he could move, before Sam even had time to shock me, I lunged toward Claudia. I couldn’t save her life. She was beyond that. Once you were brought in, you were never going to leave. All I could do was give her a less horrifying death. My hand arched down in a chopping motion, all my weight and strength behind it. I couldn’t fuck this up. The bottom ridge of my hand slammed into the center of her throat. There was a cracking pop beneath my palm, and the flesh beneath it crumpled, crushing her windpipe.
Payton shouted in surprise at my violent outburst, stumbling back and dropping the dildo. "Dahlia? What the fuck?"
Claudia’s eyes popped open, her mouth opening and closing like a fish on the bank of the river, desperate to breathe, but no oxygen. She was suffocating. An awful death, but relatively fast and painless compared to what she’d been about to go through. She gagged and made awful whistling gasping sounds, her face growing redder by the second. I wanted to comfort her, take her hand as she slipped away, but Sam didn’t give me the chance.
"You stupid fucking bitch," Sam hissed through the speakers. "Fine. You want to be in charge? Then you can take the punishment for being in charge."
An instant later, I toppled to the ground screaming as the strongest surge of agony ever blasted through my device. Sizzling crackles of electricity tricked me into thinking my arm was literally on fire. Again and again Sam shocked me. My screams and Claudia’s thrashing was too much for Payton. Even in the throes of my own torment, I saw him fall to his knees, screaming and covering his ears.
Muscles all along my jaw spasmed as the current shot through me, causing me to bite my tongue until it bled, the coppery tang of blood filled my mouth. God, when would the battery die in this fucking thing?
Right before my screams faded and I slipped into unconsciousness, I looked up and saw Claudia staring at me. Her head lolled to the side. Tongue, bluish purple, hung from between her lips. There was nothing behind her eyes. No sight, no spark, nothing. As I spasmed and passed out, I knew that, regardless of how Sam punished me for my insolence I had done the right thing. I’d spared her the torment of the dollhouse. One of the few.
Chapter 24
DAHLIA
When I woke the next morning, large red welts burned all along my inner forearm. It almost looked like I’d been splashed with hot grease while cooking bacon. The pain wasn’t terrible, more like a moderate sunburn.
Other than the burn, the first thing that popped into my mind was Drake. Was he okay? Had Sam punished him for my disobedience? The worry that swelled within me as I sat up in bed was like a lead weight pressing down on me. Why? After everything he’d done and said? He’d betrayed my trust. Why the fuck did I give a damn about what happened to him?
The answer lay in my heart, as obvious as it was ridiculous. I didn’t hate him. In fact, I actively forced myself to be angry because that was the sane thing to do. Anyone in my position would have run screaming from him and never looked back, but I couldn’t.
I stood and walked to the bathroom, running my electric burns under the sink.
"Shit," I hissed through gritted teeth as the water ran across my skin.
The wounds weren’t open which meant I probably didn’t need bandages. It would be an annoying problem for a day or two until they healed. That was the least annoying problem I had. Again, my thoughts drifted to Drake. Was I upset with him? Yes, but I’d become attached and dependent on him. Despite what I thought I should do, my brain couldn’t force me to sever ties.
The mirror above the sink caught my eyes, and I looked at myself. For the first time I really looked at my reflection. The face that stared back at me in the mirror surprised me. My cheeks weren’t sallow and sunken, the dark circles that had always been under my eyes were gone. I looked healthy for the first time in as long as I could remember. As psychotic as it sounded, it wasn’t only the fact that my body was healthy. Even with all the awful things Drake had put me through, my mind felt healthier too.
It was at that moment that I truly understood where my anger with Drake came from. It should have been the secrets, betrayal, and lies. It wasn’t. I wasn’t as upset about his role in all this than I was mad that I’d been kept in the dark so long. This whole thing, when done the right way, was cathartic beyond belief. It did heal you. My anger was in the fact that he hadn’t revealed this all to me sooner.
