SUN #9
The next thing I know, a scream rips out of me when he shoves it inside my unprepared hole.
He pauses, but only for a second, like he's giving me a break, but he’s not being generous with that, immediately he starts fucking me with it, fast, rough, deep, no hesitation.
That’s unexpected. I don’t get why he’s using a toy instead of just doing it himself. Maybe it’s his way of showing how much he despises me? Or perhaps it’s some sick test of control. I don’t ask. I’m not that stupid. Pushing him now would turn this into something even more brutal.
The dildo hits my prostate dead-on, and the poppers he so generously sprayed up my nose kick in hard. I’m fighting it, I really do. But my body’s reacting anyway. The pleasure is there, sharp and unwanted, cutting through the hate, building up.
That makes it even worse, more humiliating.
I’ve never been in a situation like this. Never been forced. Never felt my body betray me like this. And now, with this happening, it’s like I’m losing the last piece of control I had. He’s taken away my right to choose what feels good and what doesn’t.
I hate him for that, and detest how trapped I feel.
My dick’s locked in that cage, throbbing, but there’s no way to get an erection.
Just this weird pressure, blood building up with nowhere to go.
It’s agonizing. But no matter how hard I try to turn it off, the waves of bliss keep coming, my prostate, so intensely rammed, gives in.
Three minutes in, I lose it. My whole body tenses up, and I come in this fucking cage, cum leaking out of the tiny holes, and I feel like I'm an animal in a lab as the hateful orgasm rips through my system.
I hate him, hate him.
I’ve never felt so embarrassed in my entire life. I didn’t want to give him that, didn’t want to hand over that sick, twisted satisfaction, but he took it from me anyway. And even if he doesn’t realize it, this is the closest he’s ever come to breaking me.
Anzo smiles that same dark, evil smile.
"See? That’s the reaction I like. Looks like dealing with you won’t be as hard as with my sweet Summer, who’s completely immune to this kind of fun. But one day I’ll figure him out too." He laughs, low and dry.
My eyes flick to Summer. Did he mean he gave Summer poppers and fucked him with a toy—or his dick—and still couldn’t get a reaction? That’s insane. It’s practically pure mechanics.
One thing is for sure, I need to know his secret, because I can’t let Anzo take this one last piece of control from me: the power to decide what feels pleasant and what doesn’t.
Anzo finally pulls the dildo out of me, sets it aside on the table, and unties my legs. He doesn’t bother unlocking the cuffs.
Then he shoves me off the table like a sack of garbage. I fall hard onto my side, pain shooting through my ribs and hip again.
"You’re a fucking rapist," I growl through my teeth. "If this is your idea of ‘breaking’ someone, you picked the easiest goddamn difficulty mode."
"Patience," Anzo hums. "Why such a rush, Sun? Wanting to be broken already? All I’d need to do is bring your daddy here and let Rocco have his way with him, and you’d be in pieces. And he’s cute, your dad. You take after him."
Fear crashes into me like a wave of freezing water. I can’t breathe. I’m choking on it, lungs locked, and the sound that rips out of me is pure panic.
"No! No!!!" I scream as my body convulses, struggling against the cuffs, trying to jump Anzo, to kill this sick bastard, right here, right now…
But he stays calm. A fucking sadist.
"Calm down, pet. Lucky for you, I prefer a different approach. ‘Fast’ doesn’t do it for me. So go ahead, resist a little more. I thought you had that in you when you rejected my million bucks. So deliver now. Be like my precious Summer, he still hasn’t given me even an inch of what I really want."
He walks over to the wall and unhooks a hanging clasp. Then he crouches beside Summer, locks cuffs onto his wrists, and fastens them to the hook. At the wall, there’s a small mechanism. He starts cranking it, and Summer slowly rises until he's suspended by his wrists.
One thing catches my attention: Summer’s cuffs are lined with some kind of soft padding.
Then he does the same to me, though it takes more effort since I’m not exactly cooperative. The difference is, my cuffs aren’t padded. So when I’m hanging, I feel the metal bite straight into my skin.
Anzo steps back and surveys us, clearly pleased.
"I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone for a bit. Get to know each other. Maybe Summer will share some secrets that might be useful to you. Because once I’m bored with you, pet… well, that ending’s not gonna be in your favor."
Then he turns and leaves.
The door slams shut. His footsteps echo… and fade into silence.
Only after that do I let out a pathetic gasp, tears welling in my eyes. The adrenaline’s so high in my blood, it probably replaced half of it. I jerk and struggle, moaning, groaning, sobbing.
"Please tell me there’s some kind of chance we can escape," I finally choke out toward my fellow hanging buddy.
But Summer stays quiet.
"One that doesn’t involve my whole family getting slaughtered?"
Still nothing.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I know, no matter what I do, even if I run, even if I make it out, his revenge will fall on them .
Feeling the pain in my arms surge higher and higher, I finally whisper,
"Then tell me how you do it. How do you keep from reacting?"
No response. Summer just closes his eyes. Oh well. If I were him, I wouldn’t answer either. I could be a plant, a fake, sent by Anzo to squeeze the secret out of him.
So I don’t even blame him. But it doesn’t change the fact that every passing minute is torture.
Quite soon, the initial pain turns into something way worse. At first, I stupidly thought that if I just fully relaxed my body, I could hang here for hours. That illusion lasted maybe a minute. Then my body set me straight.
It feels super heavy, like molten lead is being poured into my limbs. I don’t even know how that’s possible. I don’t know how long it’s been, but I feel worse and worse by the minute. Panic starts creeping in harder.
If anyone thinks you can just hang by your wrists and somehow relax, they have no fucking idea what they’re talking about.
My arms, raised above my head, start going numb.
The blood can’t get through. The tingling shifts to burning.
The cuffs dig deeper into my wrists with every passing moment, like they’re tightening on their own.
I try flexing my fingers, shifting my weight, grabbing the chain.
Useless. I’m not in control of anything .
Then the pain spreads into my shoulders, stabbing deep into tendons. At the beginning it’s just pressure, like after a long day at the gym, but then it’s more than that. Twisting. Wrenching. Like my joints are being slowly dislocated. My own body feels foreign. Heavy. Impossible to bear.
Time stops meaning anything. Minutes stretch out like whole goddamn hours. I feel every one, endless. Each breath gets harder, like the air has to squeeze through a straw.
The pain mixes with frustration. I can’t ease a single fucking part of myself. And it’s just hanging , for fuck's sake! That’s it. Nothing else. Not a sick torture of sticking needles under my nails.
Nope. Anzo doesn't need it, because this is super effective anyway.
Everything inside me is screaming that it’s too much. That I can’t fucking take it.
Eventually, I tilt my head to the side, straining to look at Summer. And what I see stuns me.
His face: totally calm. My gaze moves upward to his arms. They’re not even tense. How the fuck?
His position looks just like mine. But there’s no strain in him at all. It’s like he’s not hanging. Like he’s just standing there.
"Fuck," I groan. "It hurts. God, it hurts so fucking bad."
Summer doesn’t answer.
Another minute. Then two. I don’t know how many more. Finally, I start to whimper. I thrash like an idiot, trying to push myself upward as if I could lift off the floor, but you can’t jump in mid-air. Every jerk just makes the cuffs dig in worse, sending burning, searing pain through my wrists.
Finally, I can’t breathe right anymore.
A broken sound escapes me, half sob, half scream.
"I’m gonna die here. Fuck, I’m gonna die here. Geeeeez, it hurts so bad," I sob. "Please, Summer, tell me how you do it, how the hell do you make it not hurt…" I cry out.
Silence answers me. I don’t expect anything else. I know in situations like this, you’re on your own. You can’t count on your fellow sufferers for shit.
"Anzo!" I scream. "Please, come back, please get me down, fuck, I can’t do this! I’ll be good, I promise! The nicest pet you ever had!!!"
Silence.
"It hurts. It fucking hurts! It hurts so bad," I keep wailing.
In my worst nightmares, I never imagined how effective such a torture would be. That bastard was right. He can break me way too easily. Again and again.
"Anzo! Anzo!!!" I scream at the top of my lungs, using every bit of strength I have left. The pain is just excruciating.
And then I realize, if it gets any worse, I’m gonna pass out.
My body’s no longer mine. Another victory for that bastard. Another fucking win. God, every plan I had, every hope, shattered. Why is pain such a brutally simple tool?
At some point, it crosses some invisible line inside me.
I feel myself slipping into merciful darkness.
***
I wake to movement around me. It’s Anzo. He unchains me and lowers me to the ground.
The second my arms move from being above my head to a more natural position, white-hot agony tears through me. I scream at the top of my lungs, on the edge of blacking out again.
"Aaaaaa!!!"
Tears pour down my face uncontrollably. My whole body is still being tortured. Everything hurts, not just my hip, not just my ribs or muscles. Now it’s my shoulders too, burning with sharp, blinding pain.
I feel like jelly. All I want is for this pain to stop.