Summary: Randy captures CM Punk in a hungry pursuit to do nothing but provide torture to Punk. Sexual torture. Will a relationship come to in the mist of this? Will Punk enjoy the torture?
The cold, hard, concrete basement floor is all the back of my thighs feel in this musty, ugly universe. The "creepy" cliché basement you see in horror movies? Well, here it is the basement straight from Hell.
"Randal! Randal, get your tanned ass back in here and untie me you fuck-face!" I scream. Screaming hurts my throat, but he needs to come back.
Prancing in a predatory manner over to my tied up ass, Randal gives me his so irresistible smirk that kills me little by little inside. 'Dick.' He knows that that will murder me alone.
"Look, if you're going to kill me already, just please. Do it." Trying to reason with a Viper is mandatory. Without reason, I'll be dead in minutes.
But that dick butt just leans on the wall. His aqua-steel colored eyes feast on my ugly self. Feeling self-conscious, I look away. Randal will get the hint to look away too. Or at least, I thought. But to no avail. I still felt his face on my hideous hair. Felt his eyes scanning my scrawny back. Felt his murder weapons drink up my loose jeans. 'I got to stand stronger.' I tell myself. But, what can a person do in a situation like mine?
I'm sitting Indian-style on the floor with my back pressed to the concrete behind me. My legs are sleeping, both uncomfortable to move. My hair is most likely sticking every which way. My wrists are bonded to two pieces of tight knotted rope. Yeah. I'm really good looking. With my no muscled body, and ugly-as-shit face, it's no wondering why Randal wants me dead.
"Look at me, Randal." I don't even know why I said that. He is looking at me. I'm the one not watching his every breath intake. Still, I continue my no-nonsense babble. "I now understand why you hate me. I'm an ugly as fuck loser who has no friends, no muscle, and no life. So, just stab me to death right now." I take a short breath-knowing it may as well be my last. "But please. Make it as pain-filled as possible. I deserve to be filled of pain. You know. With all the trouble and disgrace I've caused to this world." I hear movement behind me, but dare I move an inch.
Tossing all insanity out the window, I brace myself for the worst. Feeling nothing, I turn around a bit. Finally, words came from the deep voice of Randal.
"If pain is what you want, and then pain you will get. Honestly, I just wanted to toy with your mind. But torturing is my specialty." With a sly smirk, Randal knocked me outside the head and all CM Punk felt was pain and dark nothingness.
Author's note: New story, first story, so constructed critisism is allowed and appreciated. Hope you liked!
