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Lady C
“Here he is,” one of my captors reported, shoving me forward. I collapsed on the ground, still gasping for breath. My back and ass throbbed, and I left blood smears on the concrete where my welted and abraded skin brushed the floor.
This was an opportunity to leave a more lasting impression. It's not bad, but you could have made it more vivid.
Example 1: My back and ass throbbed from the terrible beating I had just received, evidenced in thick smears of blood where ever my skin made contact with the concrete floor.
Example 2: The beating I had just received had left my back and ass torn and bleeding. Pain gripped my every movement as my body left a bloody trail on the concrete floor.
I am not going give examples for each thing I gripe about. I just wanted to give you a notion of different ways to accomplish the same thing. Your "and" sort of quells the severity of the situation.
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A pair of red high heels stopped a few inches from my face. I didn’t glance up. I knew what I would find: a pair of triumphant green eyes gazing down at my torn and naked body.
“Michael, I’m so glad you decided to join us after all,” she purred. “It seems you are having difficulty accepting your new status. No matter. I have arranged a reminder for you.”
A cold, sinking feeling hit my gut. My second escape attempt had failed, and I knew that anything she had planned for me was going to be humiliating and painful. Known as The Boss Lady to her face and The Bitch behind her back, she was vicious and creative. This was not going to be fun.
Throw in some quotes around what the woman is called. Also, get rid of that "and", throw in a period and start a new sentence. This is an immediate sort of situation where conjunctions kill the atmosphere.
Instead of "was going to be" just make it "would be". You need better economy of words here.
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The red heels turned and moved away from me, toward the center of the basement. “Bring him,” she ordered.
The two big bruisers who had captured then caned me each grabbed an arm and dragged me across the floor. Finally looking up, I saw The Bitch standing next to a hospital gurney. She was twirling a lock of her long red hair around one finger, tapping her toe impatiently.
Eliminate "then" and throw your "and" in. It'll work better. The sentence almost sounds like the guys caned him right then. Sort of halts the flow.
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“On his back, just at the edge of the gurney.”
My handlers each grabbed a leg and hoisted me onto the foot of the gurney, placing me on my back, retaining control of my limbs. After three days on the run, without food and with little rest, I didn’t have any energy to fight back, but they were taking no chances. I was placed with my butt at the very edge of the black vinyl mattress. The gurney never moved, so I assumed it was somehow fixed in place.
Too much info. Just tell us that "I was hoisted onto the foot of the gurney on my back." We already know who is doing the hoisting. Also, the order of the men taking no chances made it awkward. Finally, the gurney never moving...um, this sorta dies a painful death with that sentence. There is a better way to put all this and a much better way to end it than assuming it was fixed in place. Hell, he could be hoisted on it roughly, surprised it never moved. Or, we don't even need to know. Tis up to you. Either way, this was a weak paragraph.
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While the rough, impersonal hands held me, The Bitch calmly and efficiently secured my wrists to the top bars of the side rails, stretching my arms tightly above my head. My legs were then forced apart, knees bent and raised toward my chest, while she secured my ankles and knees to the rails. The goons let go of me, stepped back and stood, silently watching. The Bitch completed her task by fastening and tightening two three-inch-wide webbed seatbelts: one across my throat and outstretched arms, the other low across my abdomen and pelvic bones. As long as I didn’t try to raise my head, the webbing did not interfere with my breathing.
Try the "rough and impersonal hands" - it flows better.
Get rid of "my legs were then" and just say that she forced them apart.
The last bit in red was another horrific death to a paragraph. When he mentions the belt across his neck he should note that it strangled him if he tried to raise his head. The way you say it is too passive lacks kick. Also, "interfere with my breathing"? Really? Come on, this is supposed to be brutal. Give me rough - give me strangulation or something. Not interfering with his breathing is sort of the opposite of where this is supposed to go - that is, it's supposed to grab.
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At her nod, her henchmen pressed the release on each side of the gurney, partially lowering the rails. A deep, ragged cry was wrenched from my throat. Agony ripped through my thighs and groin as my legs were pried abruptly apart. In pain, with my limbs splayed wide and tied down, I felt more exposed and helpless than at any other time in my life.
I thought his legs were already apart? They should now be at an "obscene" angle from his body...or some other fun adjective.
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“Ah, Michael, I see I now have your attention,” she drawled, standing at the foot of the gurney, towering over my vulnerable form.
My heart was pounding in my chest, my breaths ragged, this time from fear.
The Bitch raked her long red nails across my ribs, then began worrying my nipples. She pulled, twisted, and pinched them. I was tied down so tightly I could barely flinch and couldn’t escape her hard fingers at all. As I groaned in pain, her eyes narrowed and she smiled. She continued, and the pain increased with each pull and pinch.
The main difficulty with this was that you said it in too passive a voice.
He was tied down so tightly that he shouldn't have been able to flinch at all. Also, you kill part of this with the "and she smiled". Reverse the order of this bit. "She smiled, her eyes narrowing to evil slits as a pain filled groan escaped my lips." You really killed it with "she continued". Give us more of this woman here - show us she continued but don't tell us. His groans should have spurred her to further torment not to "continue".
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I stared back at her defiantly, imagining her trussed like a Christmas turkey, served up on a silver platter, an apple forced between her crimson lips. Oh, how I’d like to make that fantasy come true!
Hmm, a good image. Wherever did you get it? Anyhow, the first sentence should have been two, at least. This is anger. Anger doesn't flow, it hits. So hit with shorter sentences. "I stared back at her defiantly. I imagined her trussed up like a turkey served up on a silver platter, an apple forced between her crimson lips."
This is one occasion where starting two concurrent sentences with the same pronoun would add to the moment.
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She viciously twisted my nipples again and I winced. “Good boy,” she crooned. “I want you to hurt. I want you to remember this.”
My arms jerked reflexively, trying to protect my poor, tortured flesh. The throbbing of my abraded wrists and back barely registered in comparison. She tormented my nipples until I was reduced to thrashing my head back and forth, whimpering. Finally, I was forced to beg: I just couldn’t take any more.
A "helpless" thrown in here would have made this jump a bit more.
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“P-p-please, Boss L-lady,” I gasped brokenly. “I’ll be good. I’ll obey. I’ll do whatever you want.” At that point I would have promised The Bitch anything to end my ordeal.
He gave in so easily from just his nipples being tortured? Give me some more - she should have worked his wounds harder. She should have thrown alcohol on them - really made him feel pain before he gave in. It was a bit too easy, I do believe.
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She cupped my cheek in her soft hand, staring into my eyes. “I know you will. When I’m through with you, Michael, you will beg me to allow you to serve me. I will make you a model slave, but before that can happen, there is more you must endure.”
He would have to "endure" sorta makes her sound like a loving master. I would imagine she would consider his pain "fun". She isn't really nice - she should be planing to have some more fun with him. Maybe even tease him about it.
"I will make you a model slave. But first, I think I will have a little more fun with you."
Maybe she should ask if he wants more fun. At any rate, I would think she would enjoy some emotional torment to spice her physical torment. Sarcasm is wonderful in these scenerios.
She is "The Bitch", after all.
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I groaned, tears leaking from my eyes in despair. I tried to turn away from her, tried to hide my pain and fear—my weakness. She slapped me hard on the cheek, once again forcing my gaze to meet hers.
That's what I want!
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The Bitch reached for something on the metal tray one of her goons was now holding. She held up and admired an odd medical clamp with small holes in the tips. Before I could form a question, she attached the forceps to my right nipple. “Aaaaiiiieeee!” I screamed, arching my back off the gurney. It felt like she had just amputated that tender bit of flesh. Her look of concentration never wavered as her hands continued to move against me.
I hate onomatopoeia screams. It's a personal preference that I find to be in poor form. I just want to know that he screamed - we all know what screams sound like.
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The agony paled, however, when a bolt of fire suddenly blossomed in my chest. She wiped a gauze pad across the area and drew it away, bloody. My stomach flip-flopped. The Bitch had pierced my nipple!
“No! Please, no,” I begged.
Ignoring my anguished cries, she turned her attention to my left nipple. I writhed against my restraints, bringing my full strength to bear, futilely trying to break free. Tears streaming down my face, I begged and swallowed a sob as she clamped my left nipple.
Knowing what to expect made it worse. She pierced the other nipple with the same calm concentration. The pain continued to grow as she manipulated rings into the wounds, then mercifully began to recede.
That's not a good sentence.
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To my amazement, she began stroking my cock. In spite of the pain, I responded to her immediately. Humiliated, I felt my cheeks heat. Lowering my eyes, I gritted my teeth, willing my penis to wilt. It didn’t. I lay bound, exposed, cock rampant, and totally under her control.
Reaching again for the tray, The Bitch picked up another pair of forceps. Locked into its jaws was a curved needle. Oh, God, I thought in desperation, she’s going to give me a Prince Albert!
Okay, I don't think he would think of it as a Prince Albert. That sort of killed it for me. Give me this final paragraph with a little more emotion, horror and desperation - you can do without the Prince Albert. It's not that common for guys to know what the hell that is.
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As the needle neared my erect cock, I passed out.
I would too.
Okay, now that I bashed this a bit I can be nice - a little. I know this wasn't the easiest of assignments, but you handled it pretty well. I kinda think the nipple torture was a bit over played pain-wise. I also think you came up a bit short in the terror department - you had wounds, balls and an asshole to torture and you chose nipples and cock. Then again, I sorta knew you would, knowing you don't dig the hardcore brutal stuff. So, ya did pretty good!
I would like to see how you adjust this before moving on to another assignment. I promise not to make you go the horror route on your next one. That doesn't mean I won't make you uncomfortable - though I might let you do something more to your tastes. It depends on my mood.
I am curious how you enjoyed stepping out of your comfort zone with this piece. Do let me know after you adjust this bad boy - not now, after your adjustments.
Hasta for now.
Dean the Gentle
