Tim woke to the sound of crackling fire.
His eyes burned as they opened, the world swimming into focus. He was tied to a wooden cross, his arms stretched wide, wrists raw against the rope. Flames licked at the edges of a cavern, throwing shadows that danced across the stone walls like demons at a feast. Heat pressed against his skin, the air thick with smoke and ash.
And then he saw her.
Jenny.
She stood before him, cloaked in firelight, dressed in black leather that clung to every curve. Her tube top and shorts were gone, replaced by something darker, sharper—a devil's armor that gleamed in the glow. In her hand she held a whip, coiled like a serpent eager to strike.
Her smirk curled. "Good morning, Tim."
His chest heaved, pain biting into his back where the bullet wound still burned. "Jenny…" His voice was hoarse, desperate. "Why?"
She tilted her head, mock pity in her eyes. "Why? Because you came at me with a knife. Because you're entertaining when you're broken. And because…" She dragged the whip across his chest, slow and deliberate. "…you're mine to play with until the sun takes you."
The crack split the air before he could reply. The whip lashed across his chest, searing fire into his skin. He gasped, jerking against the ropes, but Jenny only laughed, the sound echoing cruelly against the cavern walls.
Again the whip struck, and again, each one sharper than the last. Pain bit deep, but beneath it something else stirred—a dizzying heat that confused his body, twisting agony into a rush he couldn't push away. Jenny saw it in his eyes, and her smirk widened.
"Look at you," she purred, trailing the whip's end across his stomach. "Bleeding, trembling, and yet… you can't decide if you want me to stop or keep going."
She leaned close, her lips brushing his jaw, her leather brushing against his raw skin. Her scent filled him, drowning his mind. "You're my toy, Tim. Nothing more. A man who couldn't kill me, couldn't save his girl, and now… can't even stop shaking when I touch him."
Her words cut deeper than the whip.
Jenny dragged her nails down his chest, following the red lines the whip had left. She pressed her body against his, hips grinding just enough to blur pain into desire. His breath caught, his head tipping back against the wood.
"See?" she whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth, biting it hard enough to draw blood. "You belong to me. Body and soul. Even your screams sound like music."
Tim groaned, the ropes biting into his wrists as he pulled against them, but his body betrayed him. Rage, lust, and despair tangled until he couldn't tell one from the other. Jenny laughed again, delighted, striking him once more before climbing against him, straddling him as though the cross were a throne and he was her chained prize.
"You're my toy boy," she said, voice velvet and venom. "And toys don't get to choose."
Time blurred.
Whip cracks, kisses sharp as knives, Jenny's leather pressing against him. Pain became heat. Heat became fire. Fire became something worse—something addictive.
When at last she pulled back, sweat glistened on her skin, her eyes glowing wickedly in the firelight. She leaned to his ear, her voice a whisper of silk and blades.
"Here it comes."
Tim's body ached, his heart hammered, every nerve lit with both pleasure and pain. He wanted to beg, to scream, to fight—but no words came. Only silence.
Jenny smirked one last time, trailing her fingers across his chest. Then she stepped back, coiling the whip once more.
"The sun will rise soon," she said lightly, as if discussing the weather. "And when it does, you'll vanish. But at least you'll vanish knowing you were mine until the very last second."
She turned, her hips swaying as she walked away, leaving him tied to the cross, broken, burning with pain and desire.
Tim sagged against the ropes, chest bleeding, body trembling. Firelight flickered across his face. The cavern grew brighter as the first threads of dawn crept in.
Pleasure still buzzed through his veins. Pain carved deep into his flesh.
And despair swallowed him whole.