Ad Nauseam - By C. W. LaSart Page 0,19
glasses kept his expression hidden from her when he glanced over.
“So where are you taking me?”
“It’s not far.”
“Are you taking me to Dan? I usually don’t trust guys like you to just take me places.” Liza bit her lip, hating the way she babbled when she was nervous.
“Don’t worry. It’s not far. You have the video?”
“Yeah, but I’m not giving it to anyone but Dan. What’s your name anyways? I don’t like riding with some dude and not knowing who he is.”
“You can call me Mr. White.” For the first time he looked at her and smiled, causing Liza to flinch.
***
“Wake up.”
Mr. White’s voice cut through the fog in her head, and Liza opened one bleary eye. The other was swollen shut and ached with each beat of her heart. The bright lights caused her to squint and intensified the pounding in her head. A glance around and she realized she was still in the same room. Nylon ropes held her upright in a chair and burned the flesh of her wrists and ribs when she tried to move. She was naked and cold.
“Are you awake?” The sound of his voice caused her to flinch. He hadn’t spoken a word to her since they walked into the room. Not even during the beating. “Good.”
“What do you want from me?” Liza’s voice was hoarse from screaming, her throat burned when she spoke. Blood dripped from her nose, rolling over her split upper lip and into her mouth. She ran her tongue across the inside of her teeth, encountering an open spot. Fucker knocked out one of my teeth.
“It’s not what I want from you, honey. It’s what Dan wants. I took a look at that video you girls made and I think it’s pretty good. A little editing and it will do just fine.” He ruffled her hair affectionately. When Liza tried to pull away from his touch, Mr. White laughed.
“I figured you’d be glad that you didn’t do all that work for nothing.” Mr. White adjusted one of the two cameras that sat on tripods. They had been pointed at Liza since he’d tied her to the chair, catching every squeal of pain and meaty thud while he beat her for the last many hours.
“Let me go. Please. I’ll do anything you want.”
“Anything? Interesting prospect, but I don’t think so.”
“I’ll blow ya. I’m real good at it.”
He threw back his head and laughed, his eyes twinkling. “No offense, honey, but I wouldn’t fuck you if you paid me. If this was about sex, I would’ve just raped you.”
“The money? I’ll split it with you.”
“Split it with me? Are you kidding?”
“Okay.” Liza heard herself whining but was in too much pain to care. “You can have it all. Just let me go.”
Mr. White shook his head and retrieved a briefcase from the floor. He set it on a chair and pushed the buttons, turning it so she could see what the case contained. Harsh light reflected off what seemed like a hundred exotic tools, all shiny metal and very sharp. He presented them proudly, first to the cameras, then to her.
“It’s nothing personal, you know. This’ll be easy. All you have to do is act and react naturally. Piece of cake. Dan was willing to pay one million for an angel lust video.” He picked up a wicked looking meat fork with curved tines, tilting his head as he examined her body, looking for the appropriate place to begin. His smile was gentle but his eyes remained hard as he placed the pointed prongs against Liza’s trembling abdomen. The muscles in his forearm bunched as he applied enough pressure to puncture flesh, earning an agonized wail in return. “But he will pay me five million for a snuff film.”
RETIREMENT WOES
William had never been a cruel person before the squirrel moved onto his roof.
Two weeks into summer vacation, fourteen long days after he had bid his students farewell for the last time, William sat at the kitchen table in his boxers and white t-shirt under a tattered blue robe. A bowl of oatmeal sat untouched on the table next to the unread newspaper spread out before him.
Staring at the clock on the wall, he watched the minutes tick past and wondered what he was supposed to do with the rest of his life.
“William, will you please mow that lawn today?” His wife, Kristi, walked through the kitchen and into the dining room, a cloud of soft, floral perfume left floating in her