The sound of her zipper fills the room, and, in an instant, the dress drops to her feet. Beneath the girly dress, she’s wearing some kind of lingerie, black lace draped strategically over her. She continues to move with the music and I’m ashamed when I feel my dick get hard almost immediately, my nakedness doing nothing to conceal it.
Her eyes dart down, and she grins before giggling, swaying her hips as she walks toward me.
“You see, pet,” she says in a whisper, coming right in front of me, turning to press her back and ass against my hard member. “Men are always willing, and you’ve always wanted me.”
I press my eyes shut as though it will block her out, though I can do nothing about her pressed up against me. Her hands come up around my neck softly. The familiar scent of her fills me and for a moment with my eyes closed, I can almost imagine I want to be here. I feel her turn around, but keep my eyes closed until she leans forward. I feel her tongue trailing along the new cut on my chest, stinging each inch.
“Things can be different, you know,” she practically purrs at me. “It can be better than it ever was. You just need to let go, be mine.”
My eyes shoot open and I push against my bonds, though I know I won’t dislodge her. She raises her eyes to mine, but instead of being filled with mirth like previously, anger clouds them.
“Do you not want me, Branson?” she says in a soft voice before reaching out to grab my cock in her hands, squeezing tight. “Because this dick begs to differ.”
Gnashing my teeth, I match her gaze and bring my head as far forward as I can.
“I will never be like you, and I will never want you,” I tell her, my voice soft and level. Her eyes widen a fraction and her face transforms as she shrieks.
“You’re lying! You want me!” she shrieks, and I’m actually taken aback for a moment. For the first time, I’m slightly frightened of this person in front of me I once thought I knew.
“What the fuck is—” Jane steps into the room at the commotion, looking at the scene before putting her hands on her hips. “Teddy! What the hell are you doing!”
Teddy turns to Jane and just screams as loudly as she can before pausing for a breath, her chest heaving. She looks practically rabid standing there in nothing but her little black outfit.
“He is mine and I will do what the fuck I want with him,” she spits at Jane with her chest heaving and my eyes widen.
I remember when I was young, maybe eleven or twelve, I did something by accident that messed up one of her projects. Jane beat me within an inch of my life for that, it took me months to recover. After that, I learned what it really was to be on Jane’s bad side. Despite the disgust and hatred I feel for Teddy, I still care. I still fucking want her, and I still fucking love her. I hate myself for it, but I know if I wasn’t tied to this fucking cross, I’d be stepping in front of her right now.
I’m tense as I watch Jane, waiting to see how she’ll react to the hellcat in front of her. My jaw drops when Jane smiles at her, stepping forward to take her hand.
“Teddy, dear,” Jane begins, the sickly sweetness to her voice making me want to gag even more than I already do, “Why don’t we go talk? Leave your broken toy here, he isn’t going anywhere.”
Teddy looks over at me, her eyes raking over my strung up naked body and her body seems to deflate. A slow smile spreads across her face.
“Okay, Mama. Let’s go talk.”
???
It’s hard to tell how much time has passed, but the pain in my back and shoulders is numb now. I don’t doubt I’ll feel it when, or if, I’m released.
My mind wanders, but I do what I can to keep it from where it keeps returning. To her. Standing there in that outfit.
My body and mind war with each other. The girl who was in a way like a sister to me, but at the same time always so much more. Still so young, so twisted, and so sexual already. The fact that I look at her and feel desire fills me with shame and self-loathing. When I consider that she’s a fucking psycho who treats me worse than a dog and keeps me in chains, then it’s unbearable.
I’m just so fucking tired. I feel like I’ve spent my entire life being tired. The years spent trying to please Jane. Of hell, day in, day out. Of watching people tortured and turned into her twisted art. Then Mia coming along and bringing something alive in me again, only to have her twisted and changed worse than Jane.
At least with Jane I expected it.
Knowing Jane, this was all on purpose. Two broken souls she can control, twist, and break. In all these years, despite what I’ve endured, I’ve never felt weak, broken. Not like this.
I've seen too much death and pain for the short twenty-one years I've been alive. Any memories of my early years have been snuffed out by the depravity of the last almost two decades, and here I stand at the end of it all with nothing left.
Coming to hell was an accident, at least in my case. Most people who end up here are brought here for Her. Then again, most people who end up here didn't last nearly as long as I have.
Here I am, though, at the end of it all, and honestly? I envy the dead, for they remember nothing.
???
I jerk from a sort of half-sleep when the door opens, twisting my shoulder awkwardly and causing me to let out a grunt. My eyes rise to see Jane and not Teddy. I feel infinitely more naked than before. She moves slowly into the room, her eyes never leaving me, even when she kicks away the dress still lying on the floor.