Christmas Wishes by Valentina Ruby

Author:Valentina, Ruby
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Terence Hollis

V ehemently objecting I shout, “You’re killing me!” This sadistic female has me face down on a cushioned table with a hollow circle for my face, robbing me of my dignity by stripping me down to my wife beater, and then endeavors to torture me worse than anything Jesus ever endured during his crucifixion.

“Terry,” she says softly in my ear while I’m in traction on her flaying rack. She makes a St Andrew’s cross look like child’s play.

Her breath sends shivers right down my side and I squirm to inch away from her. “We need a freakin’ safe word!” I snap, terrified of what’s gonna happen next. I bet she’s enjoying this.

I thought physiotherapists were healers, little did I know they’re just dominatrices in medical clothing.

“This,” she says, pressing her thumbs inside my acromion bone so hard I’m groaning with suffering, “is what women feel every single day wearing a bra.”

What hell is this?

“Don’t wear one, every man will thank you,” I argue back wishing she’d quit being so cruel to me.

“This is a pressure point that controls the tension in the neck right up to the cranium. You men think we complain about headaches because we’re the weaker sex. We live with this bra torture every single day and still manage to be congenial.”

“Okay, I get it, being a woman sucks. Stop torturing me!”

She seems to find my suffering entertaining because the burn from where she’s pressing intensifies.

“I’m resetting your body. By using these pressure points the muscles will stop contracting around your neck vertebrae, releasing you from contorting unnaturally and being in agony because of it.”

I want to cough out a very loud bull but can’t even find my vocal chords while held hostage in her sadomasochism. It’s excruciating!

“I’m doing this to make it go faster because you have no patience for this methodology. But you’re a tough guy, this is nothing, right?”

I know better than to say anything, the more I argue the more pain she puts me through. What is this like without muscle relaxants and Tramadol? Dad must really loathe me to think I need this.

Agony is the new black and I think I’m about to pass out again. Suspended in an endless state of floating in and out of torment I don’t even notice when she’s stopped sticking it to me.

Hot towels cover my shoulders and neck, joint and muscle gel massaging into my shoulders and neck, such sweet mercy after the misery she just inflicted on me.

Every time she moves her hands she puts the hot towel back and it’s so relaxing that I sag with exhaustion, drifting away into desperately needed slumber.

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