Secrets
I’m tied up better that Bettie Page and struggling not to choke on my gag. I’m squirming around in the spacious red vinyl back seat of an old Chevy. It’s like I’m in a restaurant booth going 100mph down the ragged highway of bat country.
It’s night out. There’s a one-eyed vampire at the wheel shouting my secrets out the window into the ears of jackrabbits and coyotes. The engine is becoming one with his low, ravaged voice. It sounds like he’s powering the engine with what he’s stealing from me. His teeth click together on the consonants like he’s eating these treasures, these things I struggle to keep inside.
They’re more valuable than blood to his kind. The wind dives into the car playfully as our passage shreds the calm of the night-time desert. His long hair turns into medusa turbulence and tugs at his eyepatch.
I can’t give up. I try to saw my bonds with my ragged fingernails. Maybe if I bleed enough, I’ll be able to slither free. There’s too much blood in my nose. I have to breathe around the gag.
My life has been a whip in motion since my birth. Free will is choice. Choices are made based on values. Values are instilled during childhood. The years of my life have been long braids of leather strung together and my childhood has created a destiny that’s pulled the years tight into an arching thrust that has only one inevitable outcome.
My entire life has been a beating and I was never told the safe word.
The arm is coming down now. The end of my life is about to break the sound barrier with a snap that every dominatrix is familiar with.
The demon driver pulls a hard left with his one good arm and now we’re off-road, bumping into the night, kicking up dust.
He’s getting low on secrets and looking for other people to exploit. His desperation is making him take a straight line across the desert to another victim. I can’t let that happen.
I managed to get one hand free. I stop moving. I’m slick with blood and burning from the ropes. I reach up to the gag and undo it.
The vampire-demon driver screams “I am free!” out the window, pauses, and slams on the brakes in panic.
Too late.
I arch up over the back seat like a gymnast. We become each other’s nightmares.
His teeth worry the flesh of my stomach in a wet, chattering maul. With my one arm free, I punch into the weakening flesh of his chest. I’ve put toothpicks under my nails. Five stakes pierce the driver’s heart.
I can feel myself getting dizzy in time with the driver’s slowing pulse.
The car is now a coffin. We die together in a supernatural suicide pact, our corpses in a fully-clothed 69 that will confuse the police if they ever find the vehicle.
We die in the desert but it feels like burial at sea.
tags
It’s night out. There’s a one-eyed vampire at the wheel shouting my secrets out the window into the ears of jackrabbits and coyotes. The engine is becoming one with his low, ravaged voice. It sounds like he’s powering the engine with what he’s stealing from me. His teeth click together on the consonants like he’s eating these treasures, these things I struggle to keep inside.
They’re more valuable than blood to his kind. The wind dives into the car playfully as our passage shreds the calm of the night-time desert. His long hair turns into medusa turbulence and tugs at his eyepatch.
I can’t give up. I try to saw my bonds with my ragged fingernails. Maybe if I bleed enough, I’ll be able to slither free. There’s too much blood in my nose. I have to breathe around the gag.
My life has been a whip in motion since my birth. Free will is choice. Choices are made based on values. Values are instilled during childhood. The years of my life have been long braids of leather strung together and my childhood has created a destiny that’s pulled the years tight into an arching thrust that has only one inevitable outcome.
My entire life has been a beating and I was never told the safe word.
The arm is coming down now. The end of my life is about to break the sound barrier with a snap that every dominatrix is familiar with.
The demon driver pulls a hard left with his one good arm and now we’re off-road, bumping into the night, kicking up dust.
He’s getting low on secrets and looking for other people to exploit. His desperation is making him take a straight line across the desert to another victim. I can’t let that happen.
I managed to get one hand free. I stop moving. I’m slick with blood and burning from the ropes. I reach up to the gag and undo it.
The vampire-demon driver screams “I am free!” out the window, pauses, and slams on the brakes in panic.
Too late.
I arch up over the back seat like a gymnast. We become each other’s nightmares.
His teeth worry the flesh of my stomach in a wet, chattering maul. With my one arm free, I punch into the weakening flesh of his chest. I’ve put toothpicks under my nails. Five stakes pierce the driver’s heart.
I can feel myself getting dizzy in time with the driver’s slowing pulse.
The car is now a coffin. We die together in a supernatural suicide pact, our corpses in a fully-clothed 69 that will confuse the police if they ever find the vehicle.
We die in the desert but it feels like burial at sea.
tags