Sarah was never really into the Gothic scene, she just kinda liked the look. She liked to think of herself as an “inverted” Goth, she bleached her hair instead of dying it black (although her hair was naturally blonde anyway). Sarah also liked the piercings and tattoos, and working in a tattoo parlour made that easy to accomplish.
Sarah thought of herself as “inverted” because she was not usually depressed and she didn’t go around looking like she lived in the pit of despair. In fact her tattoos reflected that. She had a tattoo of an ankh on her upper left arm and a tattoo of an eagle with spread wings on her lower back. The eagle was so large that its wings spread around her waist, the tips reaching just above her hips, the tail pointing down between her cheeks.
Sarah had thought about getting tats in more intimate areas but she didn’t trust her employer. Her boss, Bob, intimidated her, despite the fact that Sarah was about 5’10”, and therefore taller than Bob by a foot. Sarah had thought about going to another parlour, but all the other tattooists were the same as Bob.
Bob would also make her more uncomfortable by leering at her whenever he had the opportunity. This in turn seemed to be encouraged by Bob’s wife, Martha, who handled all the piercings. Both of them were big, fat and ugly, which reviled Sarah even more. But she liked her job, and it paid well enough. The only piercings that Sarah trusted Martha with were ear piercings. Sarah wore rather heavy earrings also in the form of ankhs.
Since Sarah usually wore dark, tight midriff tops, and hip skirts, a lot of attention was drawn to her eagle tattoo and invariably, her ass as well. She got many comments from male customers, and a few female ones about her eagle, but she knew what they were looking at. On the day that it happened, one such customer was more than commenting. He was looking with his hands.
As soon as those fingers started trailing down, she knew she had a groper.
“If want one of your own, I’m sure Bob would love to help you out,” she said very dryly, but it worked, and the customer hurried out, his face bright red. Sarah smiled bitterly to herself.
Why do I let them touch
, she thought.
“Are you scaring away the customers again!?” It was Martha, being the usual she-bear that she was. Sarah just pulled down the dye she was reaching for, and waltzed out the back to deliver it to Bob. Martha came back glowering, but said nothing. Sarah just smiled to herself and returned to the front desk.
She was sure that neither of her employers liked her. Maybe they liked her body, but if they had any choice in that matter, she wouldn’t be working there. The only reason Sarah had her job was because no one else wanted it. Sarah just dwelled in her little victory, unaware that this day was the last.
The day drew on, and turned out to be a very busy day. That is, there were a lot of potential customers. The parlour always had plenty of potential customers, but if they weren’t there to grope Sarah, then Bob or Martha usually scared them off. But Sarah managed to set up a week’s worth of appointments. Whether or not hey would be met, Sarah would never find out.
Six p.m. and time to close up shop. Bob and Martha were always too lazy to take out the trash, so that particular demeaning job fell to Sarah. Sarah always figured that despite the size of their arms, they were just fat, not muscular. Sometimes the waste from making earrings could end up being quite heavy, especially when it went unemptied for several weeks.
Sarah was quite well muscled; tall with a solid frame, so it seemed natural to Bob and Martha that Sarah do the heavy lifting. On that particular day there were many ominous clouds darkening the sky. The alley in which the garbage was dumped housed many shadows. Sarah never really worried, but she always wondered what could be concealed in those shadows.
As she planted a trashcan on the ground, a slight shuffle across from her, startled. It was nothing, but that day was the first when she felt afraid of the alley. She found herself hurrying to escape the grimy alley and back to her apartment. She lived only a few blocks from the parlour, so she always walked home, always along the same route.
She didn’t know, but that was the last time.
* * * * *
Sarah awoke in darkness, groggy, disoriented and with no clue as to her situation. She shook her head to try and dispel her dizziness. She found it only made her head hurt even more. She tried blinking, but felt a curious sensation. She tried again, again, again.
She was blindfolded! She tried to speak, but her mouth wouldn’t work. She was gagged! She tried screaming, but it had no effect. She tried to wriggle about, but she couldn’t feel her limbs. It took several attempts before the blood flowed back into her arms and legs.
She was bound, gagged, and tied to a pole; her legs and arms were aimed straight up, so that she hung like a piece of game, her back parallel to the ground. She had no idea where the ground was! She tried to think.
What happened last night?
Her thoughts raced desperately, but the memories were clouded.
Clouds.
It was cloudy
.
I was walking home, what happened?
. She again tried to scream, but her gag muffled her sounds. Immediately she felt terror creep in. Her body was racked with pain as she sobbed violently into her gag, drowning it with saliva.
What happened!? What is happening!!??
She had no sense of time. She cried, it felt like hours, she couldn’t tell. She cried so long that she ran out of water. Then she drifted off to a painful sleep.
* * * * *
Sarah awoke still in a world of torment. Her limbs were numb. Her gag was dripping with saliva. Her back ached from hanging down. Sarah struggled to maintain consciousness. Her head tossed. She tried to make her body respond, but no avail. As she spiralled downward once again, she faintly heard the words,
