Naoya-san moves, fixes his clothes and then touches my face again.
“You were perfect,” he says. “I’ll untie you now, and then we’re going home.”
He kisses the corner of my eye gently.
“Hot bath. Fluids. You’ll sleep. I’ll take care of you. You won’t have to lift a finger.”
I open my mouth. Or I think I do. Maybe I don’t. No sound comes out either way. My jaw aches from being open too long, and my throat is having a hard time with fuckingair.
Everything hurts.
Everything feels good.
The buzzing in my body stopped.
It feels like my bones are dissolving.
I think I nod, I’m not sure. My eyes flutter shut and open again and the lights blur in soft reds, greens, golds. People are still watching, just a few, it seems, but I don’t know for sure. My world’s shrunk down to rope and breath and the burn in my core.
I think I smile. I don’t even know if my face is doing what I tell it to.
All I know is I’mhis. Strung up. Dripping. Mind gone.
And I’ve never felt more fuckingalive.
TENTH KNOT
The second time we went to that club was because I told Naoya-san I wanted the whole freak-show, every crazy shit that place had to offer.
He said no.
I threw a tantrum. He punished me good and then took me there anyway.
It was great. Fucking insane. He put me up for free use again, and it was chaos from the start. My body hurt for three days after, and for three days I slept like a baby.
Two weeks passed since, and here we are again.
Only this time, I’m royally screwed.
Because out of every bastard to show up in this shithole, it had to be Ryo.
Naoya-san was behind me, pulling my arms up, adjusting the ropes. The hook creaked above my head as the tension climbed, my shoulders burning, the ropes biting into my wrists, my toes barely touching the floor.
I was watching his concentrated beautiful face when I heard that fucking laugh.
“Hey there, Sweet Ass.”
I looked up, and there was Ryo, with a stupid shit-eating grin plastered on his face, eyes shining like he had just found his favorite toy again.Of all the fuckers in Tokyo.
“Couldn’t believe my fucking eyes when you waltzed in here,” he sneered, shoving through the leering crowd. “The big bad dog himself, hanging in our club.”
“Your club?”
“Yeah,” he grinned wider, teeth white under the neon lights. “You didn’t know? This place’s ours.” He stopped close. “So what’s my favorite mutt doing letting himself get strung up like meat?”
“Fuck off, asshole.”
Ryo chuckled.
