Alice Sadique

Rope swallows her whole. Too much of it, thick and endless, coils around her arms, her legs, her pretty tits, until she can’t move without the cord biting harder. It drags her into a cruel position—muscles shaking, joints screaming, no slack left to find. Then the hoist pulls her up and the air disappears beneath her feet. She hangs, breathing through clenched teeth, every inch of her body torqued past comfort, past sense. When they drop her into the tank the water closes over her head and the ropes keep her there. She kicks, fights, thrashes, and the cords only cinch tighter. She breaks the surface gasping, hair plastered, eyes bright, and she’s smiling. Smiling like she just found the one thing she’d been hunting. She doesn’t want it to stop. Alice came to play, and she left dripping, marked, and already hungry for another round.