Sinner Chapter 21
After I meditated to get myself in the right frame of mind, I asked Rurik to move Sam to where two vertical poles were close together, with the horizontal support above, and to lie him flat on his back on the floor.
As they did, I stripped myself down to only the sweatpants I’d been wearing at the hospital. I had a clean pair to put on afterward. The cement felt rough under my bare feet, but that sensation helped to ground me.
From my bag, I removed several ropes that were much longer than the twenty-four to twenty-six-foot ones I used in shibari. Walking over to where Sam and his guards stood, I didn’t delay getting to work. Nor did I waste time talking.
First, I took a rope, and I bound Sam’s body from shoulders to ankles in loop after loop of it.
I made sure to use overhand knots and other knots and cinches to prevent slippage and tighten the rope as much as possible.
Unlike in sensual play, I wanted to cause pain and restrict blood flow.
I didn’t give a damn if he turned fucking blue or his body was lacerated.
Once I had him bound the way I wanted, I tossed another rope over the horizontal beam, then tied one end around his ankles.
I slipped on a pair of leather gloves and began hoisting him in the air.
Figuring out what I was doing, Rurik grabbed the rope and helped me.
He had gloves on already. Maybe in anticipation of beating on Sam a bit.
When Sam was suspended with his head a few feet above the ground, we tied off the end of the rope to one of the vertical columns. I spoke to the others.
“This will take a while. You might want to take a break, or even go home and rest. It’ll take time for the blood from his body to rush to his head.
As the pressure increases, it’ll cause swelling and an agonizing headache.
Eventually, without relief, the brain will hemorrhage, and he’ll begin to bleed out his ears, eyes, and nose.
The oxygen to his brain will decrease because his abdominal organs will compress his lungs, making it hard to breathe, and he’ll have a stroke.
He’ll feel as if he’s suffocating. The pain will be excruciating. Left long enough, he’ll die.”
“No, God no, please, don’t do that!” Sam hollered.
Rurik punched him in the stomach and said, “Shut up.” Then he glanced over at me. “Sorry.”
I chuckled. “No need to say sorry. I was going to do the same. Now, if you plan to stay and want to eat or drink, feel free to do so. I’ll be adding to the fun as we wait.”
No one left. Sam kept shouting at first and begging me to let him go.
When it didn’t work, he tried to threaten us by saying we’d be caught.
I ignored him. As he hung there, growing progressively more red-faced, I removed more ropes, but they were shorter.
And I sure the fuck hadn’t cared if they abraded him, nor had I treated these ones.
They were purely for practicing the torture aspects of my craft.
When Hitch taught me what he knew, we’d mainly only ever used mannequins, though for those bigger masochists who liked the most extreme pain, we’d had a few bottoms. Hitch believed one should know both sides of the practice, whether or not one intended ever to use them.
I wasn’t satisfied to wait for the pressure in his head to build.
I wanted him to hurt, so I used the smaller ropes to wrap around his body more, compressing his flesh.
And while his head needed to remain inverted, I added a rope around his neck and attached it to his body.
Anytime he moved, it tightened, choking him.
It was a version of predicament bondage.
“How long does it take for someone to die from this?” Mikhail asked when I took a break and rejoined the guys.
“Inversion typically takes eight to twenty-four hours to kill someone, although there have been known outliers. I don’t want to have him go too quickly, but I don’t want to be away from Anastasia for twenty-four hours, either. We’ll have to see,” I told them.
“So you don’t want him to last until tomorrow. I know a way to increase his blood pressure, which might get us closer to eight hours or maybe less,” Vasily stated.
“What?” Hoss asked.
“Pseudoephedrine, the stuff that’s in a lot of decongestants,” Vasily answered.
“How do you know that’ll do it?” Isaac asked.
“Because my babushka, granny, has high blood pressure. The doctors told her not to take those for that reason. We have to watch a lot of meds, or they spike hers.”
“Does anyone have any on them?” Mikhail asked.
Vasily left the building. When he returned, he held up a small pill. It took some maneuvering to get Sam into a position where we could force the pill into his mouth and enough water down him to swallow it, but we got the task done.
As time inched by, between bouts of Hoss, Mikhail, me, and Matvey’s guys talking, Sam stopped speaking and settled for a constant moaning.
His head was almost purple. No bleeding yet, but he was miserable.
Whenever I felt Sam was becoming too desensitized, I’d shake him, causing the rope around his neck to tighten and bolts of agony to shoot throughout his body.
Or I’d tell him about the future Anastasia, and I had planned. That was a form of mental torture. A lot of what I said was to make sure the others could hear me. However, the intimate things I made sure were only between Sam and me.
“You wouldn’t have been able to handle her or satisfy her sexually.
She’s incredible. She’s never denied me anything I wanted.
And when I feel the need to practice rope bondage, she’s so damn eager.
Anastasia said that while she thought you were nice and sweet at first, she knew it would never be anything more than friendship between you.
You don’t have enough fire to get her off.
She needs a real man. And believe me, she screams down the house when I make her come. ”
Sam hated hearing that. As broken and in pain as he was, he found the strength to scream, “Stasia is mine! You’ll never be to her what I can be!”
Hoss and Mikhail must’ve guessed what I’d been whispering in Sam’s ear, because Mikhail chose to twist the knife further. He came over to stand next to me with a huge leer on his face.
“Have you told him the best part?” Mikhail asked me.
“Which part? There are so many,” I replied.
“About the sex club you two are members of. The kinky things she lets you do to her and the stuff that happens there. He can never compete with that. You’ve opened up the inner vixen in Stasia. She’s a wild one.” He chuckled at the end, and Hoss smirked and laughed in agreement.
It was unbelievable to watch. Sam thrashed and screamed, spewing out hatred and all the vile things he wanted to be done to me for taking Anastasia away.
The thing was, the more he moved, the more he choked himself and increased his blood pressure.
I didn’t have to add more rope, bump his body, or anything else. He rushed his end.
I could’ve found a way to hold him still so he lasted, but we were at seven hours, and the truth was, I wanted to be back with Anastasia.
I’d taken time to text with Kathlyn first, then, when Anastasia woke up, with her to see how she was doing.
Neither asked me anything about Sam. The only remark came from my woman, who said she missed me and hoped to see me soon.
I wondered if Iker had coached them on what not to write.
At seven and a half hours, the bleeding started. Sam was yelling and crying out in pain. Noting the blood, I knew we were getting close. When he slipped into bouts of confusion, I said my last piece to him.
“Sameer, wherever you end up, I hope you get to go on for eternity, seeing how happy I make her. She will be cherished, loved, and adored, and so will our children. You would’ve suppressed and diminished her. I’ll let her fly free.”
That’s when I stepped away to chat with the guys. Slowly, his screams, moans, and mumbles faded until there was only silence. Rurik was the one who went over to check his pulse. He did it in a couple of places before nodding.
“He’s gone.”
“Good, let's get him down and then figure out how to take care of this,” I said.
Truthfully, I hadn’t thought that far ahead, but I figured there was enough experience in the building to figure that out. I was right.
“Leave him bound. It’ll make it easier to carry him. There is no need to worry about disposal. The Pakhan left us orders to handle things. We guarantee there will be no blowback on any of you,” Konstatin said.
He’d remained mostly silent all this time. I’d seen him on his cell phone, so I expected he’d kept Matvey updated.
“I don’t want to leave my problem on you guys,” I told him.
“It isn’t a problem. And the Pakhan views you as family. This is what we do for family. We follow our orders,” Konstantin replied.
I scanned all the Bratva men. They all wore the same determined yet unfazed expressions. When I glanced over at Mikhail, he nodded. I capitulated.
“Okay, I know when I’m outnumbered. Thank you so much. I’ll be speaking to your boss personally to thank him.”
I made sure to shake each man’s hand. Mikhail and Hoss offered to take me back to the hospital after I changed into the clean clothes I’d stuffed in my bag. When we left the building, I shook hands with the two men standing guard there before sliding into Mikhail’s Range Rover.
The ride to town was mostly quiet. The lights from the nighttime traffic flashed by. I sat there thinking over what I’d done. And I discovered I didn’t regret what I did. Would I? Maybe one day, but not now.