Once again, after a hot, steamy night, I woke up alone in my bed, any traces of Sunshine long gone by the time Mercy came to shake me awake. I still felt echoes of the previous night's pleasure in my vagina with every step I took. Sunshine had taken me to paradise one too many times, I lost count. At one point, my body had been transformed into a vessel of pleasure with only delicious torture flowing in my veins. Mercy was usually chipper that morning, but I did not pry; I knew my bedroom was soundproof, and nothing short of a blood-curdling scream could seep out.
My biggest fear in the situation would be the two of them getting into unnecessary drama over things that they both wanted and enjoyed experiencing. Breakfast was a quiet affair that passed by as I shuffled my food around on my plate, for all my appetite had disappeared under the weight of what my revenge on my dearest brother would entail. Most importantly, I did not want to get a stitch during what was going to be the world's biggest beatdown.
Having wasted enough time, I pushed my plate aside and got up from the table, and as if on cue, both Sunshine fell in step behind me. I didn't object to their presence, however, their participation was not welcome. Nobody deserved to hurt my brother before I did. He was curled up on the floor, and despite the less-than-ideal circumstances, he was sound asleep and did not hear us come in. I had placed a bucket of water just out of his reach so he could see salvation when he was thirsty, but would quickly discover it was a 'look, don't touch' type of situation. I threw the bucket of cold water on his defenseless body and had the pleasure of seeing him splutter to life.
His eyes were bloodshot and swollen from sleep, and judging by the dried streaks on his face, tears. He said nothing, his voice probably raw from having screamed a majority of the night. Chains pooled around his ankles and wrists, the one on his neck extending down his back now that he was no longer upside down. He looked miserable, a look of utter defeat on his face as if he had already resigned himself to what was to come. The situation could not have been more ideal for me. If he thought his current situation was bad, it was only going to get worse.
"There, there, big brother, you taught me an unforgettable lesson at the tender age of sixteen, and I took it like a girl. It was painful as fuck but I couldn't begin to describe what it did to my mind, it was as if my value diminished with every thrust your friends gave and they were many. I will not have you sexually assaulted; it would have been the perfect punishment, but it would have left no room for me. I want you to suffer under my hands, I want to break your skin and watch your blood seep out of its useless vessel. I want to paint marks all over your body that, even if you survive this ordeal, everyone will see my marks instead of you."
He whimpered on the floor when I approached him, and that tiny, terrified sound pushed my anger over the edge. How dare he act weak and defenseless before I broke him down? My fun would not be ruined by his pathetic act. If he wanted reasons to cry, I would give him a thousand and one reasons to do so.
As if suddenly possessed, I charged at him, unwilling to wait any longer. I used my momentum to further drive my foot into his back, grateful for my foresight that has me wearing padding on my feet and rings on my fingers. His cry of pain reached my ears before I could halt my progress. I dug my heels into the ground, halting my momentum. I turned back to him, and now he lay with his stomach exposed as he tried to soothe the pain in his back. I was on him before he could register what was happening. I kicked his stomach as hard as I could, followed by another and another until my right foot became an extension of my anger, consuming and unrelenting.
I kicked and stomped on him until he finally held onto my leg, the move was unexpected and had me crashing to the ground. His face was bloody and bruised from my opening session. One of my kicks must have caught his left eye, which was bloodshot and slowly closing shut from initial signs of swelling. His eyes were trained on me, the fury in them entwined with fear, lending his face an aura of a wounded animal, which is believed to be the most dangerous kind of animal. He went to punch my face, but pain slowed him down. I saw him wince long before his fist lifted from his side. I caught it easily and held on to it with a lot of struggle, which I tried my best not to show on my face.
Although I could practically hear his gears grinding as his eyes darted around the room looking for an exit or a weapon, I did not see the chains he had been angling toward me until they were wrapped around my throat. He threw his body back and almost snapped my neck in the process, and began to pull. Pain exploded in my neck, nearly blinding me with its intensity as the chain dug into my throat, effectively cutting off my air supply.
The pain was only blinding temporarily, and along with its unforgivable intensity came clarity. We're struggling on the floor with my back to his front, which allowed me to disarm him. I twisted my lower body, putting as much distance as I could without straining my neck further. While I had all the techniques and perseverance in the world, nothing could change the fact that he was bigger than me, so that was what I would use to my advantage. If Brian had been a do-it-yourself type of person, then he would have at least progressed past the keeping fit portion of exercising and developed a fighting skill.
He was acting on instincts alone, which was why, despite he fact that he was choking me, I could still feel his hot breath trying to burn through my skin. I pulled against the chain, which caused my vision to blur as my body was beginning to relax, signaling a faint coming on. I was not worried about my safety, given that Mercy and Sunshine were still in the room, just out of sight. Using the last bit of energy I had, I shoved as hard as I could to where I thought his nose was, and sure enough, I felt bone connect to cartilage for a second before the chain came loose.
Air rushed into my lungs and blood into my head, pinning me to the floor with pain and disorientation. My throat was on fire while I painfully choked on air, but I had to stand up. I dragged my body away from my brother, who was trying to stop his bleeding nose with his hands. I blinked the painful tears away and jumped to my feet. I was down on the floor a second later, having severely underestimated how much damage my brother had managed to cause me in the short amount of time he had held onto me.
I am a great supporter of tit for tat principle which was why as soon as i caught my breath, i faced against him once again. This time, he did not lie on the floor waiting for the inevitable. The short stint with the chains had given him a bit of confidence and hope. There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes, and for the first time since getting into the room, I felt the stirring of pure, unadulterated excitement. There was no fun in kicking a dog that had already surrendered on the floor. A rabid dog, on the other hand, was an entirely different party.