Horrid memories of feeling as though I was drowning and couldn’t get enough air washed over me. Desperate to get away from the harsh spray, I crawled around on my bruised hands and knees in the cage. In a panic, I cried and begged them to stop while I kept moving. Over my own sobs, I could hear Sebastian and the men laughing. One of the men reached into the cage and pulled my back sharply against the iron bars. He held me in place by wrapping his arm across my chest and holding onto one of the bars. With his other hand, he gripped my hair tight and held my head still as more water pelted me in the face.
The next time I woke up, I was still in the cage. Sitting within reach was a shiny, silver razor blade. I scrambled toward it and grabbed it with shaky hands. Desperate for relief, I sliced my skin on the inside of my thigh. I did it over and over again, at least a half dozen times. Each slice sent a wave of biting pain and adrenaline through my body. My thighs no longer were muscular from running track; they were just bones with skin pulled over them. With blurry, swollen eyes, I looked up and across the room when I heard Sebastian’s voice.
“I thought so, Brandon.”
9
Brandon
Twenty-Years-Old
Ever since theystarted using the waterboarding technique on me, I never saw the others except at the parties and then afterward to get hosed off. Then I was escorted back to my cage while they were taken to their nice room. I never had my tattered blanket again. My bed had become the bottom of a cold, metal cage that often reeked of my own bodily fluids. I had taken the nice room for granted, and now I most certainly was in hell. Darkness literally had become my only friend. My cage was in the center of what I thought was a damp basement. The walls were gray brick, and the only time the room was lit was when Sebastian or his men would come in. Every other time, the room was pitch dark.
On occasion, when I was returned to the cage, I was rewarded with a slice of stale bread. And if I was really lucky, there would be a dirty razor blade sitting beside the bread. The razor blade was always more important, no matter how hungry I was. I only drank water from the hose when Sebastian’s men came in, and it was while using the utmost caution. Water, especially from a hose, tended to freak me out now.
Usually, the group of men would jack off and aim their loads at me through the bars of the cage. Pissing on me typically followed. But their biggest thrill always came when they got the hose out and took turns spraying water on my face. My heart would pound wildly, and whenever I’d try to cover my face, a few of them would hold me against the bars so I couldn’t move.
I hated being alive, and it drove me crazy each time I woke up. I had hoped that I’d just die during the night. Maybe from starvation. Multiple times I’d tried cutting the vein in my wrists just to put an end to this torment. But it was as though they had me under surveillance, because each time I attempted to slice my wrists, they’d come in and cuff my wrists to the bars.
My behavior has vastly improved according to Sebastian, but I was still to be kept in the cage. I no longer fought them or their methods. It seemed like a few days before each party they would put me on the board and pour water on my face. I would usually pass out from it and wake up later in my cage.
Many times, I’d told myself not to fight the pain with the water torture. Just tough it out and be still. Then, if I did a good job, I’d wake up in Heaven. But I always failed and would end up waking up a while later in the cage surrounded by my own piss.
It got to the point where I was looking forward to entertaining at the parties because then I’d see people. Though I hated to be touched now, I dealt with it just to be near people, even if they were hurting me. Every now and then, there were some people at the party who weren’t so rough or violent. They just wanted to get off, and I was willing to bet most of these fuckers were married or in some sort of a committed relationship.I hoped they’d get caught.
Sebastian started keeping me near him and would show me off as being his pain slut. He’d brag to the people at the parties and tell them about all the terrible things they’d do to me, and that I could remarkably get aroused by sexual pain. There were many things that I hated about myself, but the number one thing that I hated was that I was a masochist. Eli had told me it was a rarity and that I should embrace it. And I listened to him, like the idiot I was. Sebastian used it like a charm to get partygoers to come and then pay him extra to hurt me and then laugh when I’d become aroused.
With my head tilted toward the ground, I silently followed behind the others as we were led outside to be cleaned. I remained still while they attached the ball gag, and then I was led past four sets of legs and glanced at the backs of their heads. I took my spot and waited.
Wait. Something was off.
I glanced down the row. Scott, Shannon, and Char all knelt beside me. Then there was a dark-haired girl with a bright purple streak in her hair. Where was Alicia? Where the fuck was Alicia? Didn’t the others notice she wasn’t here?
My thoughts and concerns about Alicia quickly turned into panic as water from the hose assaulted my body. I closed my eyes tightly and tried to think of being safely in my cage soon.
As soon as we were inside and my gag was removed, I spoke up.
“Where is Alicia?” I asked Sebastian as he watched his men remove our gags.
“There was a little accident, you see. She was instructed to keep her head still for her own safety, but she failed to listen to us. Necks are very fragile.”
This apparently wasn’t news to the others. How long had she been gone? How much time had elapsed between now and the party when I saw last her? I had no reference of time anymore.
“You killed her?” I asked.
“I didn’t kill anyone, Brandon.”
I knew in my heart and mind that he had. I kept my mouth tightly shut until I was put in my cage. When I was alone in the dark, I started to cry. Alicia was the one who tried to get me to come around and see things her way. I remembered how motherly she always had been with me. The first time Sebastian took me, she sat by me the whole night and tried to comfort me. She said I’d get used to my new life.
Rage boiled over. I got up on my sore knees in the cage and started yelling and pounding my palms against the bars.
“Sebastian!”
I yelled over and over until he appeared with a few of his men.
“You killed her,” I cried. “You killed her!”
“I think I told you earlier that I didn’t. Don’t you believe me?” he countered.
