Blood thundered in his ears, the sound of his own heartbeat almost deafening. His head pounded and his mouth was dry, shit he'd had a lot to drink. Sighing shakily he tried to prise his eyelids open, it almost felt as though they had cooperated... And yet the room remained an inky black. A quiet groan escaped his scratchy throat; he could taste vomit and yet had no recollection of having thrown up. He could not remember how he had gotten home, or who he had been with, though he knew there had been a woman.
Turning his head to the side he groggily tried to force his aching muscles into movement, to rub at his sleep-crusted eyes. His arm met resistance; he felt the cold bite of metal around his wrist. His brow creased into a frown and he turned his head to try and see what was preventing him from moving, but the world was black. Slowly it dawned on him that he could feel the scratch of material and stitching against his face, he was blindfolded. Panic began to set in as snippets of the previous night trickled back to him; he jerked his arms and legs and confirmed his fears, he was shackled. Tensing his body he bucked and jerked, throwing his limbs against the rattling chains that held him in place. They held fast. A vision of her swam across his minds eye.
She had been beautiful, when he had set eyes on her he had smugly told himself that internet dating was worth the risks. He had signed up to dozens of websites, padding out his profile with all kinds of idiotic lines designed to draw in an easy lay. 'good sense of humour' and 'in search of bubbly blonde seeking no strings fun.' He had tried different tricks on every site, on some he claimed to be looking for his soul mate, on others he was more honest. His favourite had been the fetish website, he had been brutally honest about what he was looking for, and he'd had more than one fuck out of it. It was where he'd seen the profile of the woman he had met the previous night. He had been taken in by her pictures instantly, there was no coyness, she proudly displayed photographs of her tits alongside crotch shots and pictures from her other encounters. She was looking for a good time, that was it.
He had sent her a message the minute he had finished drooling over the snapshots of her body, asking her if she'd like to meet. She had replied almost instantly, her message detailing a local bar where he could go to see her. It was only a matter of hours before he was buying her drinks and gawping at her shamelessly. He was astounded by how perfect she was, and she was identical to her online profile, which was a rare change from what he usually found. Her hair was blonde and curled, worn loose around her shoulders, which were bare in her strapless, skintight latex dress. He vaguely recalled them drinking together until closing time, and the barman having to drag him out of his seat and throw him out of the door. It was unlike him to get drunk so quickly, but somehow he had been so intoxicated that he couldn't even walk unaided.
She had offered to take him back to her place for a coffee, and that was the last thing he could remember.
As he lay there, wrists and ankles bound, he struggled to recall the details of her profile. It had said nothing about her being into domination, he was almost sure of it. And why was the bed so uncomfortable? He screwed up his face in an attempt to dislodge the blindfold and failed. His whole body ached, and he had a stabbing pain in his abdomen which spiked with every inhale.
'Hello?' He called out, his voice ragged as he tried to remember her name. 'Hey, can you untie me a second? I need a drink and to take a leak, then we can get back to it.'
He was sure that they had not yet had sex; he'd have remembered that.
A quiet, girlish giggle was all the reply he got, and he turned his head to face the direction of the sound.
'I know you're there.' He smiled, still unsure but hopeful that they were about to launch into a game that he'd enjoy. 'Seriously, I'm good to go.' He assured her, 'just let me take a piss.'
The same giggled echoed back at him more loudly, and the feeling of unease that had been brewing in him began to grow.
'Seriously, just let me up for a minute' he repeated his plea for release.
'....Mmmm... No.' Came the reply, her voice was deeper than he remembered, and the laugh that followed her denial was almost deafening in the otherwise silent room.
He did not know how to respond, what the fuck was he supposed to do if she wouldn't let him go? He strained against his restraints and grunted with exertion as he tried to break free, which only bought more laughter from her. After a while his limbs began to ache and he was forced to rest.
'You don't need to get up.' She was so close that he felt her breath on his cheek; he jumped and snapped his head sideways.
'How did you -'
She cut him off. 'You rattled those chains so loudly an elephant could have snuck up on you.' Another giggle burst from between her lips.
'Why won't you let me up gorgeous?' He tried turning on the charm in the hopes it would get him what he wanted. It didn't.
'You don't need to get up' she insisted. 'Never again if I don't want you to.'
Suddenly his skin felt clammy and cold, his chest tightened in panic. 'What do you mean?'
'You have no need to get up, you've been taken care of.' She reached out and brushed her fingers gently against his stubble-clad cheek, he flinched away from her touch.
'Taken care of?' His voice wavered as true panic began to sink in. She was nuts and he'd let her fucking tie him up. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! What was he going to do?
'Yes,' she reached forward and placed her hands on his head, hooking her thumbs beneath the blindfold and pulling it off as he tried to squirm away from her. 'See.' She gestured down to his stomach.
He looked down, his eyes struggling to adjust to the gloom. The room was dimly lit and it took a moment for his vision to swim back into focus. He gagged and retched, but his stomach was empty and only bile frothed from between his lips. Protruding from his sides were two thick plastic tubes, stitched into place and leading to two heavy bags rested beside him on the table.
He was strapped to a medical table.
With frantic eyes he stared at one bag and then the other and back again. One was half filled with yellow liquid, the other with a thick sludgy brown mess. Yellow tinged fluid leaked from the wounds where the tubes invaded his body, seeping through the bandages she had taped there.
'What the fuck have you done to me?!' He snapped his head back and stared up at her impassive face.
'You don't have to get up.' She repeated. 'You're being looked after Mr... Urm, I'll call you John, I'm ever so sorry I've forgotten your last name. No need to correct me.' She leant forward and stuffed a balled up strip of medical gauze into his mouth, slapping him hard when he tried to turn his head away. 'There's no need for that, I'm looking after you!' She snapped, grabbing his chin and yanking his face back towards her, taping his mouth shut firmly with duct tape.
He squirmed and tried to scream past the gag, but she hit him again. He whimpered and fell into silence, watching her with frightened eyes as she reached below the table and lifted a tray of medical supplies into view. She placed the equipment carefully onto a small metal table that sat above his head and he heard her fiddling with the instruments, rattling them around before looming back into view with a syringe in hand.
'Now hold still.' She instructed. 'This won't hurt a bit.'
She pressed the plunger and a little of the liquid inside shot out of the needle tip, and then she grabbed his face and stabbed it deep into his cheek. He felt it skitter across the surface of his teeth and jab through them to stab into his tongue. She depressed the plunger with a gleeful laugh and watched intently. He could do nothing but swallow, and the liquid burned as it slid down his throat. He felt his tongue blister and muffled cries and moans broke past the barrier of his gag. It was acid, the sick bitch had fucking injected him with acid!
He retched and spewed a wave of regurgitated acid back into his already blistered mouth, forcing himself to swallow again, tears streaming from his eyes.
'Well done!' She stroked his cheek tenderly. 'You're doing so well. That will keep you quiet now; perhaps I'll even be able to take your gag off if you're good.'
His eyes rolled in his head as the acid scorched its way down his throat and into his stomach, he could barely hear her past the burning pain.
She watched him cry and squirm for a while, waiting for his movements to subside before grabbing his nearest arm and producing a second strap from beneath the sheets. She secured it tightly around the limb and jabbed him with another needle whilst he lay exhausted from the pain.
He felt the cold liquid squirm into his veins and turned his head to look at the arm she held almost tenderly in her hands. He made a small sound past the gag, trying to beg her to stop.
'It's ok,' she hushed him. 'Shhh... It'll be all right, it's just a little anesthetic. Local of course, you don't even have to go to sleep.'
She reached to the tray above his head and carefully selected her next tool, a set of glistening sharp pliers. Waving them in front of his face she smiled ' just need to take off a few little pieces. You'll be ok, you're being very brave.' She laughed cruelly.
Grabbing his hand she jabbed him in the palm with the empty syringe and let it hang there, embedded in the skin to stop him closing his fist. Gripping his fingers one by one she forced them between the jaws of the pliers and clipped down to the bone. Meticulously she sheared off each finger knuckle by knuckle, smiling as his struggles against her weakened, blood pouring from his wounds and splashing onto the floor. Once she had reduced his hand to a stump she produced a suture kit and stitched up the wounds neatly, wrapping his hand tightly to stem the blood flow. She looked up at his face to see he had passed out, and repeated the process with his other hand whilst he was unconscious. His body twitched and jerked as she clipped away his fingers, but he did not regain consciousness.
When he finally awoke he tried to flex his fingers, praying it had all been a drink-fuelled nightmare. He felt nothing. Panicking he twisted his head to look at what she had done to him and his eyes sprang open wide. He screamed past his gag, strangled sounds escaping him as he looked sideways at the empty space where his arm had once been. She had cut off everything up to his elbow, and arranged around the room on narrow shelves were liquid filled jars with tiny pieces of him floating inside them.
He snapped his head around to look at his other arm, it was the same, and when he tried to kick his legs he felt nothing. Knowing what he would see, he looked down, crying and screaming into the gauze in his mouth when he saw that his feet and lower legs were gone.
She had wrapped his wounds tightly, but he had been given no pain relief and blood and puss oozed from between the bandages. He had been unconscious for days thanks to multiple bouts of anesthetic, and she had had ample time to alter him to her liking.
Thrashing around he tried desperately to wriggle free of his bonds, but she had strapped him down tightly. She had even fed a drip into his arm to keep him hydrated, and there was a warm plate of food waiting somewhere in the room for him, he could smell it past the rank scent of infection.
'You're awake!' Her voice rang out of the gloom, she sashayed over to the table, dressed in a crisp white nurses outfit, carrying his tray of food and setting it down on the table above his head.
Leaning down she tore the tape from his lips and leaned in to kiss the bleeding mess of his mouth.
He tried to turn away from her, but his body was weak from pain and blood loss.
Lifting her head she smiled dreamily down at him, picking up a small, steaming pot from the tray and spooning scalding hot rice pudding into his mouth. He gagged on it and tried to spit it out, but she spooned around the edges of his bloodstained lips and scooped it back into his mouth as a mother would a baby.
'I always thought it looked like maggots.' She smiled down at him, giggling as he spluttered and gagged. Once she had forced him to eat the entire serving she stepped back and placed the pot back onto the tray, looking down at him lovingly.
'You remember my profile don't you John?' She asked him. 'What I wanted?' She leaned forward and began running her fingers through his hair, her breasts pressed against his chest as she cooed at him. 'I wanted a long-term play partner. I wanted a toy, do you remember? You are my toy now. You can't move unless I move you, you can't eat unless I feed you, and you don't even piss or shit like a human being any more. You're like a living doll.'
She leaned in to kiss his forehead as he desperately tried to force his acid-burned vocal chords into a scream. She spoke over his gurgling with a faraway look on her face. 'I've made myself something really special in you John. I'll never need another man again. I've set up equipment to allow us to be intimate in the more conventional sense, and if I ever get bored of that, you have four new ways for me to enjoy you.' She reached across and stroked at the bandaged tip of his arm, giggling as tears began to roll freely down his cheeks. 'And of course, if that gets boring...' She gestured to the jars on the shelving 'I'm sure I'll find other ways to make you fun to play with.'
His head fell back, his eyes rolling in his skull.
'Unconscious again' she tutted 'we'll have to train you out of that.'