He smiled at me, enjoying my suffering, and got nearer to my face. “Youarea pretty little thing, huh? I heard the chaos you unleashed upon your arrival. Do you even remember?” He chuckled. “Nothing like the water chamber to confuse the shit out of you girls. You really pissed off the guards. Fuck, don’t look so fucking miserable and scared, a little rabid kitty like yourself being scared of me turns me on. I don’t want to risk pissing off whomever your trainer will be by fucking his little slave. Poor bastard.” He squeezed my exposed nipple until I screamed. His wet mouth covered it, sucking hard, then he flicked at it. “You liked that? The doctor from the water chamber told me your pussy, mouth, and ass are legendary. Told me he’ll do anything to stick his dick in that ass.” His hand crawled under the sheets until his fingers slid between my pussy lips only to find what Ialready knew—Iwaswet. He laughed. “Don’t worry. We’re going to have so much fun. But first, we need to declaw you, can’t be scratching everyone.”
The younger man rolled a metal table into the room with all kinds of tools jiggling. “Let’s start with the declawing. That way she’ll scream less with the rest of the procedures.”
My muffled groaning was loud enough to garner their attention. I shook my head, trying to communicate to them not to do that, but the doctor grabbed for tools and then for my hand. A light shined, warming my hand, but then cold alcohol wet it. “Oh, I see. They are quite long, no wonder.”
I screamed.
“Relax, first we’ll loosen the skin with some hot water. Aren’t you cold? That’s what you were trying to tell me before, right? Hot water will feel good. It will numb you a bit too.” The immersion of my fingertips into the steaming liquid made me tense, hiss, and try to pull my hand out, but he held it in place and my palm burned. “Henry, she’s not going to make this easy at all. Get something to restrain her better.”
“Why not anesthetize her, sir?”
“Stop asking me stupid questions and go do as you’re told. If you don’t know what else to do, then go ask an experienced nurse.” The guy left. “Come, dear, you can do this. It won’t be that bad.” I kept resisting and groaning.
Another young man entered with more restraints, then tied them to me and the railing of the bed so I was incapable of moving my arm. Steam rose from another bowl of liquid before they placed it on the metal table. With my hand closed into a fist, anticipating the insane heat, they pulled my fingers open and pushed them into the water. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but when the needle pried and tore my forefinger’s nail from the bed, I screeched until my voice faltered, until I had to stop totake a breath. The muffled screams were followed by repeated no’s.
The doctor laughed. “She’s quite the screamer, isn’t she? Don’t be so dramatic, Kitty.”
“Mmmh Nmmh Nmmh Nmmh Mmmmm Ahhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhh!” With the ball shoved in my mouth, the words coming from my tortured soul were inconceivable.
The hot water didn’t help, and I felt every jab and tear. The pain didn’t stay at my fingertips. The newly exposed skin was so sensitive the wetness of my blood made the agony throb all the way up to my shoulder. I stilled my body so rigidly that it trembled, trying to withstand the torture as he tore and lifted nail piece after nail piece. No matter what I did, I couldn’t run away from the pain. Every time I thought I could take it, he’d lift another bit. After what seemed like forever, without hesitation, he yanked the bottom of my nail from the cuticle and skin.
“Okay, Kitty, we’re done with the first nail.” The hot, undulating throbbing became a constant river of pain that flowed from my now-naked finger through my arm, up my neck, and all the way to my brain. My tears mixed with the thickening layer of sweat that covered my body. I couldn’t stop wailing.
“Okay. Here we go.” The announcement only made it worse. It forced me to anticipate the pain. I knew it was impossible, but I had no choice but to try to break the restraints, so I pulled over and over, not giving a fuck that the leather was cutting into my skin, stopping circulation, bruising me. The effort only worsened my struggle for more oxygen. My heart pounded in my ears as I tried everything to escape, to break away. Between the fighting and the pain, I lost awareness. I squeezed my eyes shut until they hurt too, until I saw stars. The screaming became automatic. How could they do this to me? I begged them to stop, but it made no difference at all.They were focused and fascinated by what they were doing, hardly ever looking at me.
The needle was skinny, so it took forever to tear the second nail from my finger.
I screamed way past my throat being sore, past losing my voice, past coughing and stopping my breathing for so long I got dizzy, almost fainting. I couldn’t help it. It was too agonizing.
“Henry, turn that thing off, I can hardly hear her, for God’s sake.”The beeping from the machines had been echoing around the room.
“Mmmm—Mmmmmmmm,” I yelled, pleading for them to not continue. Surely, they understood I wouldn’t be able to withstand all ten of my fingernails being yanked out consecutively.
My jaw ached from trying to squeeze my mouth shut. I wondered why he was skipping both my thumbs while my whole body and breath quaked loudly. When he got to the first thumb, I realized it was my thickest nail, therefore the hardest to separate, therefore the most painful.
My body was breaking down from so much stress. I heaved, feeling the vomit rising. “What do we do?” the young man asked when I gagged.
The doctor sighed, annoyed. “Take the ball out of her mouth.”
He held my head up so I could vomit to the side. “Water. Please. Please stop. Please.”
My fingers, arms, and shoulders throbbed with a pain that made me wish I were dead. The realization came to me fast. I was so stupid for doing anything else. I should have used the letter opener to kill myself. In the heat of the moment, I hadn’t even considered it. I was so stuck in wanting revenge that I hadn’t been thinking long-term.
He was right. The placement of the tracker into my shoulder had been nothing after the tearing out of my ten nails. I was too exhausted to feel anything other than the throbbing in my arms.
While they tattooed my slave number on my nape, I fell asleep. Although I felt the ball sliding back into my mouth, I couldn’t open my eyes.
22. Spiraling
There was no way for me to know how long they’d had me there. I was hooked up to an IV but starving, and after so long without drinking water and the screaming, my throat was like a desert. If my breathing went off course or quickened, my veins would circulate blood to my fingers at a faster rate, sending excruciating torture where my nails once rested. The skin there hurt and itched at the same time. The ticking sounds from the clock above the door mixed with the beeping had me going insane and understanding Edgar Allan Poe a little too well. Like my thoughts, time was stagnant air, neither coming nor going. After years of working twelve-hour shifts in political campaigns, this was torture for my mind. My intelligence, personality, and sanity were wasting away.The fabric between reality and fantasy degraded into a thin thread that only a spider could find. Up was down, and down I spiraled.
I tried to piece events into an organized sensible timeline, but like broken glass, nothing fit. Every few minutes, my thoughts, memories, dreams, and fantasies clashed, actively mixing and fighting each other, then my emotions devolved until I couldn’t stand the restraints keeping me on the bed. Despite my deepbruises, I attempted to break them so many times by pulling with all my energy and strength.
The only stimulation I had was that same vile doctor once again walking into my room. Each day they didn’t move me from the room, his violation of my body escalated. He was already comfortable with reaching beneath the sheets to play with my clit while kissing my cheek, my neck. I’d gag in disgust every time I felt myself getting wetter, aching for more when he’d stop and laugh at me. “We won’t tell him how wet you get for me every day. It will be our little secret.” I groaned loudly out of rage, but my body told another story.
“Aww, you’re mad at me?”
My yelling, “Stop!” was once again completely muffled. Unfortunately, my obvious rage only encouraged him. He stroked my clit hard and fast, pulling a gasp out of me. My insides clenched.
