The Hunt (16 page)

Mara had to interrupt at this point.
“Some women like that, but some don't. Most don't. I have absolutely no desire to be tied up or beaten.”

Tyner suddenly became impassioned.
“That's where you're wrong. You want to be dominated. You just don't know it. The woman in this book, at first she was terrified at the idea of BDSM, but once she'd experienced it, she loved it. It turned her on when she was given, like, punishment.”

Mara shook her head.
“I was given a judicial caning once, and I can assure you I didn't find it erotic.”

Tyner leaned forward, obviously interested by this.

“Ah, so you've already had some experience.”

Mara tried to conceal her frustration.
“I'm not sure what you mean by 'experience'. I broke the law, and was punished. The punishment was definitely not intended to turn me on.”

“
What were you punished for?”

“
Being out of uniform in a public place.”

“
You seem to make a habit of that.”

“
I already told you, the arena isn't a public place. Anyway, if you hadn't forced me to leave, I'd have stayed in the apartment.”

“
Anyway, tell me about your caning.”

Mara had no wish to discuss this subject, but she was willing to grasp at anything that might delay her 'session' in the playroom.

“I went out to do some shopping without getting changed first. A police officer scanned my thumbprint, and when he found I was over eighteen, he said I'd be hearing from the authorities. Three days later, I received a letter saying I had to report to a punishment centre.”

“
How did you feel when you read the letter?”

“
Awful. I thought of appealing, but I didn't have grounds for an appeal.”

“
What happened when you went to the centre? Tell me everything you remember.”

“
I handed the letter to a receptionist, and was told to sit in the waiting area. Eventually, two women came and escorted me to a room. It was empty except for a padded flogging bench. One of the women ordered me to remove everything except my blouse and lie face down on the bench. Once I was in position, they secured straps around my wrists and ankles. The first woman said, ‘Mara Gorki, you have been sentenced to ten strokes of the cane for violating uniform regulations. The punishment will be carried out immediately.' I think those were her exact words. Then she began beating me. The other woman counted out each stroke. I thought it would never end, but I guess the caning only took about three minutes. After the last stroke, the woman undid the straps and said, ‘You may get dressed and leave when you are ready.’ I couldn't sit down afterwards, and the bruises were still visible a week later. It was one of the most unpleasant experiences of my life.”

“
I think you're being dishonest. I guarantee that at some level you were turned on, and you're, like, afraid to admit it. Over the next few days, you're going to learn a few things about yourself that will surprise you. The fact you've absolutely no choice is precisely what will make this experience such an exciting one. I've spent a lot of money paying prostitutes for BDSM sessions, and what always spoils it is their insistence on having, like, a safe word. That's why I was willing to pay far more to take part in a Hunt. This way, I get to play with someone who has no safe word, no control over what happens. Of course, there are limits set by the Hunt committee, but they're not set by you.”

“
But BDSM is by definition consensual. If you remove the element of consent, you can't call it BDSM.”

Tyner looked thoughtful.
“Maybe you're right. Maybe I should use another word.”

Mara felt like screaming, but she managed to control her voice.

“I know exactly the word you should use. Torture! That's what you're planning to do to me! At least call it what it is!”

“
Torture is used to get, like, information or a confession. The person being tortured knows their ordeal will end once they do what the torturer wants. That's not what's going to happen here. There's no information you can give, no confession you can make, that will stop the pain. This is about exploring your limits. You should see me as a guide.”

Mara could take no more. She screamed and put her hands over her ears, trying to shut out this lunacy.
Tyner was not disturbed by this; indeed, it seemed to have been what he was waiting for.

He calmly picked up a tissue, used it to dry the tears pouring down Mara's face, and put his arm around her shoulders in a comforting manner as he said,
“Mara, you have to be strong now. We're going to move into the playroom.”
He stood up, took her hands, and gently urged her to her feet.

As if in a trance, Mara allowed herself to be led out to the hallway.

Positioning her before one of the closed doors, Tyner stroked her hair with something that might have passed for affection and asked, “Are you ready?”

Mara shook her head and looked at him beseechingly, her eyes again full of tears.
“No, please. I don't want to do this.”

Tyner caressed her cheek.

“I think you're ready, Mara. I think you're much stronger than you suspect.”

Saying this, he opened the door and pushed her in. At first, the room was completely dark. Tyner reached for a switch and turned on the lights with one hand, shutting the door behind him with the other.

For some reason, the first thing Mara noticed was that the room had no windows. It was a small point, but it clearly defined this as a space set apart from the everyday world, a space from which there was no hope of rescue, nothing to intervene between victim and torturer. Mara took in the room's contents instantly, as if the image had been imprinted on her retinas by a flash of lightning. There was a padded flogging bench, a large X-shaped cross standing upright by a wall, ropes hanging from bars attached to the ceiling, and a wooden horse, shaped like an upside down V, with restraints to hold its rider in place. Arranged on shelves around the room were vibrators, handcuffs, ball gags, whips, canes, clamps, and an electrical device to which long wires were attached. Mara was in no doubt as to the purpose of all this equipment. It was to be used on her body, used to restrain her, humiliate her, and above all cause her pain.

Tyner observed her response carefully, and chose the moment when an expression of total horror had spread across her face to say, in a soft voice,
“Mara, I want you to take off your robe and hand it to me.”

Mara shook her head. The thought of being naked in this place was more than she could stand.

Tyner spoke more forcefully this time. “All we're going to do today is have a one-hour session. But if you don't take off your robe by the time I count to five, I'll double the session's length.” He started counting, but Mara had already removed her robe by the time he reached two. Taking the garment and hanging it on a hook by the door, Tyner turned to the terrified and naked Mara, gestured at the X-shaped cross in the corner of the room, and said, “Walk over to that cross and stand with your back to it.”

Mara did as she'd been ordered, shuddering at the feel of the cross's cold wooden surface. Tyner raised her left arm above her head, lining it up with the restraint on the cross's top left corner. Once it was in position, he tightly secured the strap around her wrist, then lifted her right arm to the top right corner and secured it in the same way. Bending down, he said,
“Spread your legs as wide as you can,” and proceeded to fasten the straps attached to the bottom left and right corners of the cross around her ankles. By the time he'd finished, Mara could not move an inch. Tyner walked across the room, and as soon as he'd vacated the space in front of her, Mara noticed a full-length mirror positioned directly opposite the cross. The sight of herself in this humiliating position added to her terror, as it was plainly intended to do.

Opening a white box sitting on one of the shelves, Tyner removed a small object which Mara could not make out. As he moved closer, she saw it was a medical needle in a sterile wrapper.
“No!” she sobbed. “Please, not that!”

Tyner smiled as he unwrapped the needle.

“You don't even know what I'm going to do with this yet.”

Mara stared at the needle, breathing heavily. Tyner pushed a lock of hair out of her face.

“I need you to listen carefully. Can you do that, Mara?”

Mara nodded, her fear growing with every moment.

“That's good,” said Tyner. “In a moment, I'm going to pierce your left nipple with this needle.”

Mara finally lost control.
“No!” she screamed. “Please, don't. I beg you. I can't take it!”

“
Mara...” said Tyner, as if talking to an unreasonable child, but Mara did not let him finish.

“
You don't understand, I really can't take this.”

She pulled desperately at her restraints. Tyner stroked her face as he said,
“When I pierce your left nipple, I want you to describe exactly what it feels like. It's important you be completely honest. If I suspect you're lying or concealing anything, I'll take another needle and pierce your right nipple. Do you understand?”

Mara stared at Tyner unbelievingly, but it was obvious nothing she said would deter him.
“J...just tell you what it f...feels like?” she stuttered.

Tyner nodded.
“That's all you have to do.”
He grabbed Mara's left breast, squeezed the nipple between two of his fingers, and pressed the needle against it, saying, “I'm going to pierce you now.”

Mara screamed as the needle worked its way in.

“What does it feel like?”

“
It hurts, it hurts so much. Please, stop.”

“
Okay, it hurts, but how exactly does it make you feel?” asked Tyner as he pushed the needle deeper.

“
It...it makes me feel helpless. You're causing me so much pain for no reason. I c...can't move. All I can do is watch as you d...do this to me. Oh God!”

Mara's final exclamation coincided with the moment when the needle's tip emerged from the opposite side of her nipple. Tyner stepped back, leaving the needle in place, and Mara saw a thin line of blood run down her breast.

“That was very good, Mara. Now I've one more question to ask, and I want you to think for a minute before saying anything, because your answer must be completely truthful. Were you at all turned on by what I just did?”

Mara took several deep breaths. The pain was intolerable, and she desperately wanted the needle removed. But she doubted this lunatic would accept the truth, which is that she found
what he was doing to her painful and humiliating, not erotic. She knew what he wanted to hear, and after waiting a minute, she said, in a voice she tried to make as convincing as possible, “It was horrible, but I have to admit I was excited by it.”

Tyner reached down and felt between Mara's legs, probing her vagina with his index finger. Removing his hand, he held it up in front of him and said, in an disappointed tone,
“Completely dry. I'm afraid you were lying. That means you get the second needle.”

He turned away and returned to the white box as Mara screamed.

“You lied to me,” hissed Tyner as he unwrapped another needle, “and I told you what would happen if you lied.”

“
You won't accept the truth. You think I'm going to be turned on, but I'm not. You can't imagine how painful this is. It's horrific. I don't want this. Don't you understand? I don't want this!”

Tyner was already holding Mara's right breast, once again positioning the nipple between his fingers.

“You don't have to say anything this time. Just focus on the pain.”

As before, Tyner placed the needle on the nipple's edge and, after holding it there for a few seconds as he stared into Mara's face, began pushing it in. Mara cried out and pulled at her restraints, but the needle continued to make its slow progress, and Tyner was soon standing back admiring his handiwork. Mara looked down helplessly as a second line of blood appeared.

Tyner nodded, evidently satisfied with a job well done, then glanced at his watch and said, “I promised you this first session would only last an hour, and there's still twenty-five minutes to go, so I'm going to leave you on the cross for the remaining time while I take care of a few other things. When I come back, I'll let you down, and you can go to bed.”

“
Please, take the needles out!” Mara implored. But Tyner had already shut the door behind him. Mara was left confronting her own reflection in the mirror. The sight of herself with needles in each nipple and blood running down her breasts was unbearable, and she shut her eyes tightly, trying to ignore the throbbing pain. After what seemed an eternity, the door opened again and Tyner re-entered. Taking some disinfectant and cotton wool from a medical box, he removed the needles, threw them into a nearby basket, and gently wiped Mara's breasts, meticulously cleaning off the blood. When he'd finished, he undid the restraints on her ankles and wrists. She almost collapsed when her hands were freed, and Tyner had to support her as she returned to the bedroom.