Page 59 of Inside the Sun

It all starts again. Anzo fucks me with the toy, and when I'm already close to orgasm, the son of a bitch knows it by some strange fluke and pulls it out of my hole again.

"I hate you. You’re a fucking sadist. Sir."

"You don’t know the first thing about sadism, pet. You have no idea what it really means tohurtanother person."

The way he says it… I just know he’s not talking about himself hurting someone. He’s talking about someone hurtinghim. I don’t know how I know that. But I do. It’s just there, suddenly.

"I’m sorry you had a rough childhood. But that doesn’t mean you get to take it out on everyone else. Ever heard of breaking the cycle of violence? All it takes is a decision. Mind over matter."

I throw it at him, and the next second, a small electric shock hits my body. Just a taste of it, Anzo’s version of a slap.

When my jaw finally unlocks, I manage, "You think I’m some idiot you can control, that you can predict my every move. But you’re showing a lot more of yourself than you think. I’m starting to get a pretty clear picture."

Anzo laughs with that same dead, robotic sound.

"Keep going, pet. Maybe you should’ve studied psychology instead of music. You’ve got the attitude for it."

"You’re not that hard to figure out, Anzo. I mean, sir. You reek of a beta complex. And childhood trauma."

"Maybe. But there’s one difference between us," he leans in, whispering into my ear. "No one’s ever broken me."

"Oh, but someone has! This, what you’re doing right now, is proof of how deeply you’re broken. Healthy people don’t act like this. Sir."

Anzo sneers.

"Stop with the Sir. I’m not into some dom/sub thing. And you’re bad at this anyway—"

"So why do you keep calling me pet? I wear a collar and eat on the floor…"

Anzo lets out a heavy sigh. "God, you’re really just an airhead. Anyway, you have no idea what’s going on here. But I’m not going to explain it to you. Your little brain wouldn’t get it anyway."

"You’re not that over and above, Anzo! I can see through you more than you want me to—"

Then he abruptly pulls me off the table.

"I think I know just the thing to cure your little psychologist phase."

He drags me toward the wall. I already know what he’s planning when I hear the ratchet of a pulley above. The hook catches between my cuffs, and panic grips my throat.

"No!" I scream, because this time the pain hits almost instantly. My wrists haven’t healed. "No! You bastard, I can’t take this!"

"A psychological mastermind like you will find a way to deal with it. Treat it as a challenge. You are caught in a cycle of violence. Mind over matter. Find a way out."

Then, while I'm hanging from the hook, writhing and moaning in pain, Anzo does the exact same thing to Summer. Right after, he turns and walks away.

Without a word.

And we’re left here, hanging in silence. Well, almost silence, because I’m howling, groaning, kicking, and fighting against this unbearable pain. My shoulders can’t take it.

After just a few minutes, my body becomes a prison from which I can’t escape. A fucking nightmare, the only thing it gives me is constant, unrelenting pain.

Desperate for some distraction, I twist my head and glance over at Summer. He still looks like he’s just floating there. His arms don’t even seem tense.

How the hell is that possible?

"Help me. Please, how are you not in pain? Tell me!"

Silence.

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