Creating Control

From Nightmares to Dreams

Chapter 8~ From Nightmares to Dreams

Handcuffs, blindfolds, and rope. Those used to be some of my favorite things before her. Before she did those things to me. A nightmare made from my favorite things; how oblivious I had been with her.

The room was dark, making it hard to differentiate between a dream--nightmare--or reality. I wanted to call out for Mr. Faber, hoping it wasn't dream. My body started to shake as I realized the cold breeze that hit my naked flesh. That's when I felt the cold metal of handcuffs on my wrists and the pull of rope of my ankles. Even the soft cotton touch of the blindfold around my eyes went unnoticed until now. I knew it was a dream, a memory.

I tried to pull away from the handcuffs and rope, hoping I could wake myself from the awful nightmare. Metal rattled as the rope burned my ankles. I wasn't going to get free. Adrenaline kicked in, and I began to violent shake my body as if it would make a difference to my escape. There was the feeling of liquid dripping from my restraints, but I barely noticed in my adrenaline-high state.

Pain. A flood of white, hot pain flooded my body as something was brought done repeatedly against my bare stomach. I could only cry out, hoping the torture would end. It never did. Again and again, what I assumed, what I remembered, the whip was brought to my body, making pain echo through my skin. I started screaming, pleading for the pain to end.

"Shut up! You love this, you little sl*t!"

The sound of her voice made me shake more as she continually brought the whip down. Her evil laugh echoed throughout the room as she ended her assault with the whip. The first time, I had thought she was done, and the torture was over. But no. It was going to get worse.

I whimpered, pleading silently for her to end my suffering. I may be masochistic, but there was nothing pleasurable about her and her tortures. Shuffling around the room, I tried to listen to her movements, to guess what she was going to do next. I knew. This wasn't a dream at all, only a memory.

"Jase!"

I heard my name, but it was so faint that it felt like a dream. She never called me by my name, only her little pet names. Again it was spoken, a little louder than the first time. It sounded so familiar, so comforting. My body shook as I tried again to get out of my bondage, to get to the voice, to safety. Footsteps started to approach me, and that's when everything came rushing back. Cold hands were placed my thighs, making me shiver.

"Tsk, tsk. Little sl*t thinks he can get away from me? Maybe a little punishment is due. What do you think, sl*t?" she laughed, her cold hands moving from my thighs.

I whimpered, trying to move away from her hands. The cold, harsh fingers ventured dangerously close to my most private area, making me cry out in shock and terror. Pain spread as I received a sharp smack on my inner thigh for my cry. I could imagine the animalistic glare in her eyes as she tortured me, making me cry and whimper in the pain she inflicted on me.

"Jasper!"

There was the voice again. It sounded so soft, so warm and comforting. The voice was pushed away by the sound of her cackling at my pain. Her hands began to poke me, making me shiver in disgust and terror.

Then I could see.

My eyes opened to find the familiarity of my bedroom ceiling. With wide eyes, I glanced around, afraid I would see her in my room. I was terrified that it wasn't a dream, or a memory, anymore, but that it had been reality. Instead of seeing her sadistic and animalistic gaze, I was met with the very worried gaze of Mr. Faber.