I woke up to a slap in the face, and not the good kind.
This wasn't Mistress Pain's Chamber of Pleasure.
This hand was big, rough and calloused. Like the hand of a gorilla locked in captivity who has nothing to do but spend the day jerking off. In all likelihood, not all that different from this bozo.
My face stung and I opened my eyes to see the buster who slapped a guy whose arms and legs were tied to a chair, but I was blindfolded.
It seemed like overkill for one guy, or maybe they thought it was just the right amount of kill for what was coming next.
I tried to breathe, but my nose, broken no doubt, was full of blood and smashed cartilage, whilst my mouth was covered in duct tape. I surmised it must have been new, or else I would have suffocated. Or, at least I would have if I wasn't suffocating.
I shook my head and moaned, my brain throbbing at every move, but oxygen trumps brain damage every time.
I pulled against my restraints, but the ropes didn't budge and the chair didn't move. Bolted down, probably. There are only so many reasons for that. None good, Mistress Pain, excluded.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
"Show our guest some hospitality", came a voice that echoed through the space, a warehouse most likely. I knew then I was up shit creek without a toilet roll.
The tape was ripped off my mouth and nearly snapped my neck in the process. As soon as my mouth could open I involuntarily spat a mouthful of blood and saliva onto the floor.
"Oh, you fuc--"
"Now, now, manners, please," came the voice again.
I heard the gorilla next to me grumble as I gasped for air, and realised I must have spat up all over his shoes, which was more than a little amusing.
Then all was silent, except for a single set of footsteps echoing through the empty hall.
They were slow, yet methodical and deliberate. Not the uneven clunking steps of a hired goon, these were the steps of a man with patience and a functioning medulla oblongata.
In short, he was a civilised man. And there is nothing more dangerous than a civilised man.
The steps stopped right in front of me. I thought of launching another mouthful in his general direction, but he would be more disappointed than offended, and this was not a man you wanted to disappoint.
The blindfold was pulled off over my head without being loosened, and I was sure I had a new bald patch somewhere up there.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to my surroundings, which felt abnormally bright.
In front, I could see the outline of a thin, elegant man. Though he was still a blur I knew he was impeccably dressed with shoes that cost more than my car.
"Hello, Mr Jerk", he said, as if this were a bank manager, "long time no see."