gone

when she looked around, all she saw was machinery, moving and clicking and readjusting in dim light, little blue and red flashes occasionally lighting up, showing the status of a certain process. it's cold in here, no living thing stays long. no insulation, not meant for creatures with a heartbeat. and yet it's the perfect place ...

her hands are bound above her head, the other end of the rope attached to a pipe above. bruises are on her wrists from struggling, on her arms from being held against her will, but she was so out of her head, she couldn't quite remember the struggle. she slipped...out of her mind, for just a moment, but an unusually loud click and the movement of gears closer than most others brought her back to reality. so much struggling on so little food, so little energy, she was barely able to hold herself up. another short click, and a door that seemed to have been hidden before opened slowly. she tried to hide her face behind the hair that fell into it, turned her head and looked at the ground. out of the corner of her eye, once it adjusted to the new light coming through the doorway, she saw a silhouette. tall, lean, perhaps muscular, it was hard to tell. was this who hurt her? ooh, the bright light gave her a headache. one last muffled click, and the door was shut, the light gone, she alone in the room with her dominatrix.

she slipped away again, felt herself drifting out of her mind--and then pain. my arm, she thought. it's bleeding ... while she was out, he had taken the rope off of the pipe, though kept her hands bound. he kept her, bound, trapped, pinned against the wall, his body pressing into hers, his blade dragging across her skin, cutting her with even the lightest of strokes. she bled. he touched his fingertips to her blood, ran his fingers over her neck gently, radiating a chill throughout her whole body, leaving smears of her own blood even where she was not bleeding already. she shook for a moment, gasped, then collected her thoughts again. she realizes, i cannot see his face. who? a reflection plays in the dark, two blue lights in eyes that she could not see, though she could feel them, could feel them when they met her own eyes. when they met, she slipped, her mind drifted, she floated...toward him. she turned her head, tried to hide behind dirty hair, but he grabbed her jaw firmly, pushed her hair out of the way, he admired the look of fear all over her face, her eyes welling up, though she would not shed tears.

...no, please...

she begged, she gasped and writhed and begged more, please . . .  (i can't keep myself together, my mind is so scattered, my mind ebbs away ...)

"pet,..."  a whisper into her ear aroused her, she realized she had passed out, realized she had passed out from his hand squeezed around her neck. he let go, she coughed weakly. what, relief? the rope is gone ... but he had her pinned face to the wall and he behind her, one arm twisted behind her back and the other tied tautly to another pipe, this one closer to her waist rather than above her head. he held her up by her twisted arm and her neck, she could not even support herself. she felt a pop in her shoulder, gasped and whimpered and groaned, the pain was screaming in her brain but her body could not express it, could not make the instinctive action of trying to get away. it was futile, anyway. my breath is gone again, his hand around my throat ... my mind is leaving me, i am gone again ...