Monday, July 21, 2014

No, Daddy, No: Part 5: Bad Juju

"Well?" he said, jingling the chains.  "You've got me tied up.  What are you gonna do now?"

She didn't say anything.

"Oh? Nothing?  Seems like a waste of good chain.  You should take advantage of the time you got, because you're not gonna like it when I get out of here."

Slowly, she got up and approached the bed, reaching toward him.  He lurched suddenly and she jumped away with a yelp.

Drake laughed at her.  "Yeah, that's what I thought.  Now, untie Daddy so I can figure out how you're gonna pay for this idiotic little stunt."

Kate ran out of the room again and came back with his belt.  He stared at her skeptically for the moment, and then snorted.

"You think you can hurt me with that, little girl?" He said, laughing at her again.  "You can't even talk back to me. Stupid and weak.  Untie me. Now."

Something snapped. "I'm not stupid!" She screamed and swung the belt down across his thighs.  She was so angry, the clack of the metal studs and the pulling of her cuts didn't even make her wince.  He hissed and grunted, but didn't cry out. She yelled a string of obscenities at him, almost unintelligible in her anger, swinging the belt wildly.  One blow caught him in the groin and he shouted.

He was still groaning as she climbed on top of him and roughly grabbed his hair, yanking his head back and forth.  She pulled hard, forcing him to look her in the eyes when he opened his again.

"I'm not stupid!" she screamed in his face.

Shocked, he looked up at her, searching her face for…something.  "Okay, okay" he said, in a voice one might use with a hostile animal. "You're not stupid."

She slapped him hard across the face, hard enough that the blow split his lip.

"Why did you come back?" she said, yanking his hair again. "And don't feed me that bullshit about whores. You could fuck anyone you want. You could fuck that blackmailer bitch. Why did you come back?"

He stared at her for a few long moments.

"I need you."

"You don't need me. You proved that well enough."

He continued looking up at her, and, for a brief instant, she saw in his eyes the same wildness that clawed at the back of her brain, the same desperation that choked her lungs and clenched painfully around her heart. Kate watched the blood trickling slowly from the corner of his mouth.  Her back burned as she leaned over him. She gingerly lowered herself into the floor, careful of both his and her own injuries and rested her back against the side of the bed.  She didn't know what to do with those words, what to do with that look in his eyes. She ran her fingers through her hair.

"You're gonna kill me one day," she said.

"I would never kill you."

"Maybe not on purpose."


"I think that worries me more, honestly." She heard him fidget a little on the bed, the sheets scraping against the mattress with the sound of a windbreaker.

"Why?" he said. "I'll give you everything. You just gotta let me."

She laughed a little.  "I don't think I much like your everything."

She looked up.  The closet door was open.  It was one of those sliding doors, and the closet was so full of junk that it rarely closed.  She noticed her sewing kit stashed up on the top shelf.

"I don't wanna die.  I don't like the dark," she said.

"You ain't gonna."

"I know."

Kate lay on the floor and fished around under the bed for the royal blue ratchet strap stuffed there.  Crawling over him, she attached the strap to the bed frame and positioned it just below his navel before tightening so he couldn't move.

"What are you doing?"

She got the sewing kit out of the closet and pulled the box it sat on out with it.  She sat the two boxes beside him on the bed: the sewing kit, which was in a large purple SpaceMaker School Box, and a white Tupperware tub.  Out of the tub, she pulled a little sack cloth doll, crude in its design. It was small, perhaps the length of her hand. It had small black buttons for eyes, and a mouth embroidered in red thread.  All over the doll were sewn a dozen or so beads and charms. She sat it high on his stomach, and Drake craned his neck to look at it.

"What is that?"

"A juju doll," she said.

"What is a juju doll?"

She shrugged. "Some sort of voodoo thing. I know how you used to talk about wanting to learn about it.  I saw these in New Orleans over spring break a few years ago. I started makin' it back in October.  It was going to be your Christmas present."

"And why are you getting it out now?"

She opened the school box and pushed the tub close enough for him to see inside.  The tub was filled with hundreds of multicolored beads and buttons.  The school box contained a variety of sewing supplies, mainly a pile of straight pins, a couple spools of thread, and a handmade pincushion stabbed through with sewing needles.

His eyes widened a fraction.  "But you hate needles…"

"I hate serrated knives and metal belts too," she said flatly.  "I figured since you broke my limit, I'll break yours.  It's only fair."

"You can't do it.  Let me out, Katherine."

"I couldn't do a lot of things, before."

He struggled against the chains.  "C'mon, Katie. Baby, you don't wanna do this. I need you, and you need me.  You know this. I love you."

Kate ignored him.  He kept talking, more orders, but she tuned him out in favor of cutting his pants off and selecting a sharp needle from the pincushion.  She threaded it with an emerald green thread.  It wouldn't match the beads very well, but she didn't really expect it to stay green for very long.  She looked him over briefly before picking out a small black snake charm.  He got louder as the needle got closer to his skin.  He tried to thrash around, but the ratchet strap held him in place.  She pinched up a bit of flesh and stabbed the needle through his still-soft penis.

He screamed.  The sound was a satisfying one.  She continued to sew the bead on.  The thread turned black from blood. Blood trickled from the half a dozen holes she made.  After the fifth bead she had to go wash her hands.  The needle was too slippery and her hands were red too.  She graduated to a larger needle as she moved over his stomach up toward his chest.  The bigger needle meant the holes were bigger.  He looked like he was covered in red paint under the dozens of little beads.

She was crying now, and her hands were shaking.  She could hardly get the needle to go through the skin, but she needed to finish.  She needed it to be over.  His voice had gone hoarse from screaming.  During some of the beads, she had screamed with him.

She had to finish.

She laid a large metallic button over his right nipple and stabbed the needle through the rose-colored circle of skin.  It felt like sewing leather, heavy and thick, hard to push through without digging into her finger with the eye of the needle. He found the voice to scream again.  It was loud and long and cracking as she stitched the button to his chest through all four of the minuscule holes.  She drank in the sound like a good bottle of booze, letting it wash over her, letting it cleanse her.  It went on and on as she decorated the other areola with a bigger button that looked more like a gold coin.  He was breathing hard and fast now, finally out of control.  A small tear leaked out of his right eye.

"I," he forced out, "am going to kill you."

Kate crawled on top of him, straddling his waist.  Still crying, she slipped the studded belt around his neck with the studs on the inside, slipped the end through the buckle, and cinched it.

"You're not going to kill me, Daddy." The belt tightened.  "You said so, remember?" Tighter. "You said you'd never kill me."

She stroked his face fondly for several long moments.  "You love me." She nuzzled his cheek, getting his beard wet with her tears.  "You told me so." Kate pressed her forehead to his.

She lay there for several minutes, holding the belt tight around his throat.  She rested her forehead on the part of his chest that had no beads until it stopped moving. Kate looked up at his face.  His eyes were closed. His lips were lightly tinged with blue.

She started shaking and her eyes got wide.  He was…She ripped the belt from around his neck, hurling it away from her.  It banged against the closet door, scraping the wood on its way to the carpet.


 Her fingers fluttered over his face and chest, touching down lightly for a split-second, not daring to caress his motionless body.

"No, Daddy…No…" Kate slid down his body and off to the right, nestling herself against him with her back to the wall. Her clothes were soaked with his blood, but she didn't care. She wrapped her arm around his middle and rested her cheek on the smooth skin of his chest, repeating those words over and over.

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