Monday, March 11, 2013

Ahead of the Game

"Let me get this straight... you actually get off on pain?" Incredulous, Rodney started looking at his daughters browser history again. "You're into this sort of thing?"

"Daddy, it isn't.... it isn't ABOUT that... the getting off," Cally's 16 year old eyes liquefied him when she teared up like that, but the list of sites he was staring at terrified him.

He watched porn. He liked porn. This wasn't what he could consider porn... this was torture. He clicked another link and a video started. He watched his daughters eyes flick over to the screen. There was a hungry look that disturbed him.

On screen, a woman was tied down to a stainless steel table, stark naked. There was a massive red ball gag in her mouth, and twining streams of mascara stained tears rolled across her temples. Her nostrils flared while someone off camera held a cattle prod in front of her face.

The camera followed the path of the bifurcated metal rod as it touched the side of the restrained woman's neck. The muscles in her neck convulsed in anticipatory response to a shock that never came. The hand guiding the prod traced the girls collar boned and started down the curve of her breast, coming to rest on the bar of metal piercing the woman's right nipple.

You could hear the whimpering intensify and then the click of the trigger and the whimper turned to an agonized scream. The table shook and its metal feet scraped across the concrete floor as the victim convulsed in pain.

Rodney tried not to stare with the gape jawed horror that he felt. He didn't want to alienate his daughter, but none of his mother's parenting advice had prepared him for discovering Cally was into... whatever it was that she was into.

"You want to be... like that?" he asked. On the television, the cattle prod had moved from the right nipple to the left. The victim had tiny A cup breasts... almost boyish. Nothing about the scene appealed to any part of Rodney's sexual fantasies. It was all wrong. Drool was dripping out of the girls mouth around the ball gag, her eyes were adrenaline and panic wide.

Cally scrunched her eyes for a second, opened her mouth and then said absolutely nothing. "Give me a sec," she finally whimpered. "I wasn't expecting to have this conversation yet."

The camera moved so that you could see the full length of the restrained girl. Off screen there was some quiet chatter. The camera man and the torturer coordinating perhaps. Rodney was distracted by the chatter from his daughters Android. She looked questioningly, he nodded and paused the video. He needed time to think as much as Cally did.She daughter pulled her phone out and responded to whatever important text event had just occurred in her world. 

"Be supportive, ask intelligent questions. Be supportive, ask intelligent questions." The mantra his mother had taught him when Cally's mother had passed 2 years after giving birth to her. Cancer had taken his mother just  a year after that. S and M... those weren't part of ANY of the millions of possible futures he had struggled to prepare for once the reality of single parenthood had set in.

He had never seen any signs of cutting... no bruises... what signs had should he have been looking for? how did things get this far off course? On screen, the cattle prod had disappeared. Instead, a cane was being applied to the soles of the girls feet.

Cally was texting fast and furious with several people apparently. She looked stoic and determined about something. That set of her jaw she got when she knew she was right about something. The one that always got her in trouble when she was 3.

His heart broke. Was his daughter submitting herself to this kind of abuse? Was there some sick fuck out there hurting his baby girl? He struggled not to let rage take him over the cliff. He knew that the last thing his daughter needed to see was her old man screaming and slobbering about her horrible choices in her love life.

Her love life... those were the battle fields he had prepared for. Stupid boys trying to get in her pants. Pedophiles. Molesters. Rapists. All those horrible fantasies had been lived through in Rodney's mind before Cally had learned to play X-box.

"Research. I need to do some research," Rodney stood up. "Sorry. I didn't see this one coming."

Cally watched him rise and got a look of relief on her face. She bounced up off the bed and hugged him. "You are the best. Go. Read your googly insights and come back, armed for congress."

Rodney hugged her back fiercely, chuckling at her choice of adverbs.

Just then, there was a knock on the front door. Cally's eyes flashed mischeviously and she grabbed her dad's hand with both of hers. She started tugging him out of the room and into the living room, towards the front door. "Before you do, I need you to meet this person. Trust me."

She dropped her dad's hand to open the door with a flourish.

To Rodney's total dismay, the girl who had been on the table in the video was standing there, on the doorstep to his apartment, cute as a button and wearing a spiked collar with a leash attached.

Cally grabbed the end of the leash and pulled the girl into the room without so much as a cursory greeting. "This is Robin. She's my... playmate. I'll pay you back for the cattle prod once the site takes off."

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