1 Name: Anonymous : 2007-01-25 11:51 [Del]
I wrote this on a whim recently, I'm not sure if I want to continue it or even if it should really be posted here. I am worried it's too sick and weird for BSDM fans but not sick enough for guro fans.
"You'll die by water."
Those words stood out among the many empty flatteries the fortune teller told me to so long ago, on one of my few visits to the common peoples' market. It might have been the last. I don't remember. I do remember that she paid for her honesty with her life the following day. You don't say those kinds of things to a nobleman's daughter when you're one of the hinin.
It was my escort who ordered the execution. I felt a bit guilty about it... after all, I was the one who had asked her about the manner of my death.
This ironic memory came back to me as I floated in a water-filled alcove hidden underneath a floor tile. I was tightly restrained and unable to escape. There was no air. My mouth was held open by a perforated ball-gag, so I couldn't have prevented the water from flooding into my lungs even had I tried. I'd been in this situation for ten hours, give or take another ten. By all rights, I should have been dead.
Unfortunately, I had lost the ability to die during a series of unfortunate events about a thousand years earlier.
Only one small part of my mind was pondering the memory. Most of it was trying vainly to get some sleep. Another portion was incessantly flooding the rest with panicked reminders about how, obviously, I could not breathe. I'd had no success tuning it out.
All in all, it was one of the worst nights of my life.
Some time later, the tile above my head was removed. I heard nothing, but light shined into the alcove that imprisoned me. A hand reached down, grabbed my hair, and roughly hauled me up. I would have screamed if my throat hadn't been completely filled with fluid. The room was fuzzy and bright; I was deposited on my knees facing the watery pit, the grip maintained on my hair so I wouldn't fall right back in.
I vomited. My stomach was empty except for the liquid, so the ballgag didn't cause undue complications. Water poured from the perforations in the gag and the corners of my mouth, back into the alcove before me. After my throat was unobstructed, I began a hacking cough, trying to clear the water from my lungs as well.
It seemed like ages later that I finally recovered, moving from spewing liquid to wheezing unhealthily as I remembered the taste of air. The room came into focus. I dripped onto the tiles, and suddenly became cold; the few things I was wearing were only clothing in a pervert's imagination, and no protection against the chilly air thoroughly waterlogged as they were. I wondered if the water might have weakened the sheath binding my arms, but it was a futile hope at the moment. I didn't have the strength to struggle.
The hand let go of my hair, and turned me around. I saw my tormenter. As expected, it was that girl. Long black hair, skin of a paleness few humans could match, a flawless face. I frankly don't feel like dignifying her with an introduction. Suffice to say that she's an immortal like me, and we have a long and lousy history together.
"Good morning, Mokoh," she said.
That is my name. It seems odd today, but it wasn't back when I was born. Well, it was odd for women to have a given name in the first place, but if more of them had, there might well have been women named that. I had no time to ponder nomenclature, though; even as she spoke, the one before me stretched my nipple ring (bestowed by her a few days ago) and casually thrust a long needle through the flesh of my breast.
I flinched. I was fairly used to that sort of pain; after living as an immortal for a millenium, wounds don't bother one much. Besides, I was flat-chested, so there wasn't much for the needle to skewer. To the girl's credit, she noticed this time: "Hmm... that didn't affect you much, did it?" She'd been content with torturing me in such a manner for a week, but was starting to get more creative... like last night's stay in the alcove, which I dearly hoped she wouldn't repeat.
"Let's try a different approach, then," the girl said. She pondered briefly, then her eyes strayed to the alcove behind me. "Hmm... you don't like water, do you, Mokoh?" She smiled at me. She'd hit a nerve; I hated water. I didn't reply in the slightest, not wanting to betray anything to her.
She must have sensed my tension, though. She leaned over me and scooped a handful of water from the alcove, then splashed it in my face. I flinched again, and found myself looking to the side. With a wet hand on my wet cheek, she turned my head back towards her unpleasant smile.
"Tell me, Mokoh," she said, tracing my upper lip with a finger as it curved around the gag in my mouth. "Do you still remember the little indignities of mortal life?" Obviously, I couldn't have answered, and I had no idea what she was talking about anyway. I settled for glaring at her.
The girl stood up, and went off, presumably to fetch some torture implement or other. While she was gone, I tested the sheath binding my arms behind my back. It felt as secure as ever. The shackles on my legs, preventing me from kicking or running, were secure as well. Perhaps I could headbutt her... but everyone in this mansion was completely loyal to her. Even if I somehow overpowered her in this state, I wouldn't get far.
While I was thinking about it, she returned. So much for my glorious escape. The contents of her hands puzzled me, though; she held a thin tube, a funnel, and a canister. They looked like no torture tools I'd ever seen. Were these related to her mention of water? If she wanted to force me to drink, wouldn't she just put me back in the alcove?
The girl set her tools down next to me and, without further ado, forced my legs apart. I struggled and tried to resist, but my strength still hadn't fully returned, and it was useless. Her hand darted between my thighs, but she wasn't interested in my sex- instead, she prodded a hole a little further upward. It stung slightly. "Do you remember, Mokoh?" she repeated.
I did, just barely. It was one of those places where... things had gone out. Immortals' bodies were perfectly efficient; we didn't need to do such things. But I remembered that I'd had to deal with it daily as a mortal. It had been filthy and disgusting, but having been born with the need and no choice in the matter, such concerns quickly faded.
What did she mean by bringing up such a thing? It's not as if she could merely will me to dirty myself like that again. I hadn't had to do it in a thousand years. But no; she had picked up the tube and was forcing it into that tiny hole. This time the stinging was incredible, and it wasn't a kind of pain I was used to enduring. A muffled cry worked its way past my gag.
"Ah, I finally hear your lovely voice," the girl remarked with a smile. If she really wanted to hear my lovely voice, she could remove this gag. I'd insult her in this lovely voice until it was no longer lovely, but hoarse. But apparently she only cared to hear my suffering. She stopped after having pushed the tube about halfway into me; the pain subsided slightly, though it didn't go away.
I struggled to remember the proper name of that place... a bladder, was it? Meanwhile, she was talking again. "Were you a human, you'd be dribbling all over the place right now," she observed with a faint giggle. How rude of her. I was still human, at least for lack of a better term. "But since you're not, we'll have to put something in there."
She placed the funnel into the other end of the tube leading into me. So that was her plan. Well, I wouldn't have volunteered for it by any means, but this was a good deal less unpleasant then the other things she'd done. Did she think that this would bother me? I was confused.
She opened the canister, and showed me the contents. It was filled with water... water that, somehow, was boiling. Moments after my mind processed this, and I started thrashing uselessly in my bonds, she began pouring the boiling water into the funnel.
I screamed.
It was the most pain I had experienced in a long time. I had previously endured a forest fire while in its midst, but being burnt by flames was quite different from being scalded. And I had never before been damaged from the inside. It seemed an agony far more intense then anything that began at skin level.
My thrashing managed to tip the funnel, and the girl cursed as some of the water spilled on her hand. She set the canister aside just before I gathered myself enough to lunge at her. Empty-handed, it was easy for her to roll aside, and I fell flat. Due to my bound arms, I was helpless now.
She rolled me over and sat on my chest. She was not light; I stopped crying in pain and began gasping for breath. With me subdued, she picked up the funnel and the still-boiling water and resumed pouring it into me, sending me into another paroxysm of pain.
It seemed like an eternity before the funnel finally brimmed; I was completely full. With a frown, she tipped the excess liquid out onto my thighs, where I fancied it landed with a small sizzle. I kicked my legs uselessly, muffled sobs of pain forcing past my gag. She then took hold of the tube near where it entered my body, twisted, and pulled a segment free. It seems the tube was in two parts; I hadn't noticed.
"Now, wasn't that fun?" the girl inquired. She slid off my chest and kneeled next to me, smiling at me as she wiped the tears from my cheeks. A quiet moment passed, both of us savoring my agony. The pain inside me slowly began to fade, replaced by an uncomfortable feeling of fullness that I hadn't known in a long, long time.
I wanted that water out of me. I squeezed as hard as I could, but nothing happened. It seemed that the part of the tube remaining inside me contained a valve. My face burned; even my own body was no longer mine to control. "What shall we do with you next, Mokoh?" the girl wondered meanwhile. She idly toyed with the needle still pierced through the flesh of my breast. I stared up at her, an unfamiliar feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.
I supposed that it was fear.
