Labyrinth

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  Billy pulled me around so we’re face to face. “Jewel,” he lays me away with these lowered eyes and the stern voice, makes my whole insides turn to jelly, “don’t go getting weird on me. This is just where we’re going. Everything’s going to be there just the way it always is.”

  “Yeah, right, I hear the dogs.”

  “So, what do you have to fear? I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”

  “It’s the place, Billy,” I gaze back at the awful building. “An asylum! People went mad in asylums, if they weren’t mad already. I read about that once.”

  “It hasn’t been an asylum for over sixty years. Sometime back in the 30’s, I swear. Ghosts don’t haunt things that long.”

  “And how would you know that?” I cock my head and wait for his answer.

  “I just know. Besides, you trust me, darlin’. You always have, you always will.”

  I thought he was going to have to carry me inside, but funny thing happens when I start getting all turned on. Soon as he points me in the right direction, I put one foot in front of the other and suddenly there I am, walkin’ up this steep staircase to the front porch and the big front door. The paint’s peeling and there are thick vines crawling up the posts like writhin’ snakes. Couldn’t get any spookier if we’d just walked into a horror movie. But there I am.

  The door opens before Billy has a chance to knock and a man in a tux, lookin’ like some snooty Southern butler answers. He takes one look at me and nods his head to the side of the house. “Females through the side entrance,” he says in his snobby English accent. Then to Billy, he says, “You’ll want to come back here once you’ve deposited her at the door.”

  What? Like I’m so much trash? I want to sass the bastard, but of course, I don’t. Billy would probably flog me on the spot if I was to mouth off like that.

  As we retrace our steps, Billy whispers, “You’re doing just fine, honey, holding your tongue.”

  Like I want to!

  “Just let it take you down, you know the drill.”

  He says this and it’s like something clicks in me. I’m feeling the shivers all over again, and this spooky atmosphere starts working its special magic. I don’t wanna run away now, I want to be part of it, blend into the mortar and stone, the big beams and the swirling clouds above. Even the dogs barking as they race around the perimeter have me. Like this is destiny. I told Billy that once, and he just laughed. But it’s real, destiny. I feel that. Sheeree my tarot cards a few days before, and all the signs fell into place. In fact—gave me chills to think of it—I think I knew Billy would be coming by for me that Friday night. Usually, he jus’ shows up outta the blue. But this time, a premonition from the cards right there before me in cups and swords, and, yes, The Moon. I almost panicked when I turned over that card. Sheeree smiled. I’m not supposed to tell anyone about my weekends, but a girl’s gotta talk things out. Right? Billy would kill me if he knew I’d breathed a word about this, but then Billy’s not gonna know.

  Back to that night—we backtracked to the side entrance of the asylum—I don’t care if everyone was calling it an Army barracks, it was an asylum to me. What did we find at that door but another dressed up, stern-faced soul guarding the door—although this guy was wearing old fashioned breeches, boots and a white shirt. “She’ll have to surrender her clothes,” the man says, as he inspects every square inch of my body with a pair of ogling eyes.

  “Take my clothes off now!” I blurt out. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself, which was exactly what I told Billy when he glared at me for speaking up.

  Yeah, well, I’m always breaking the rules.

  I shrank back, looking like a wide-eyed deer and then finally got it through my thick skull that Billy wasn’t budging until I stripped down to nothing. I suppose I could have ran for the truck, but his beautiful eyes were so into me that all those surrendering feelings were on the attack once again. My gut was doing flip-flops and it was getting hard for me to breathe. Like a little mouse just raced the derby down my back, my entire body shook. And his eyes, big, bold brown eyes had me hypnotized. I was shedding clothes faster than I could say, ‘yes, sir’. Suddenly, I look down to see myself standing in a puddle of red and black, the skirt and sweater I’d so carefully chosen already gathering dust, or maybe turning to dust as if they were going to ride the next wind south. I stepped clear of them and stood like a naked prisoner, not the flagrant slut I was, with my shoulders sunk in and my hands covering my privates.

  Finally, Billy turns to the guy in the boots. “All yours, Flanagan.”

  Flanagan? Real name or fake? I’d never know, but small things like that just increase my excitement.

  While Billy stood watching from outside, I moved like a scared rabbit into the long dark hallway. Once the door clicked shut behind me, I had the feeling that I was doomed. We moved maybe ten feet inside the old asylum and came to an open room where almost a dozen naked women were waiting for what came next. They looked at me, I recognized some. I nodded, not sure why I was feeling so self-conscious when they were naked too, but I was.

  It’s just plain eerie being in a roomful of women who won’t say a blessed thing. Not even a whisper—the walls have ears, I keep reminding myself every time I’m tempted to blurt something out, like, ‘How the hell are you!’ with a big smile on my face. Might shock ‘em back to life.

  Well, there we were, stuck in that stuffy room for a long time, sitting there with our heads down, sighing from time to time. At one point a couple of guards came in with collars, the purpose obvious. These were nasty iron things, the kind that take you down from the sheer weight. Like someone had just hit every surrender button in a roomful of legs and tits and arms and pretty pink asses, we all withdrew a little deeper into ourselves with that heavy collar around the throat. I was sitting next to Kathryn, the gagged Kylie was on the bench across from us, while a girl named Ashleigh was huddled in a corner looking pensive, and Rabbit—no one knows her real name—was practically climbing the wall she was so freaked out. The other few I didn’t know by name, but most of the faces were familiar.

  From time to time over the next, maybe, half hour, a new girl would arrive through the entrance, or one of the women would disappear with a man, either on a leash, crawling or submissively walking behind them. I can’t say it was much fun, but I could feel the anxious churning in my belly grow with every minute that passed. Despite my worries about this strange place, I wanted Billy to come for me and get things started.

  I was half asleep on the bench when things suddenly took a strange turn. Kathryn and I heard the racket first, the car door, the angry voice, the screech of a woman who caused us to turn and peer through the blurry window glass at the scene outside.

  I’ll be damned if Miss Priss, the wafer thin blonde, wasn’t back for more! Kathryn looked at me, me at her. She was as shocked as I was.

  West had her collared with his hand at her throat, the hulking man as hardhearted as I’d ever seen him. I swear, there’s something evil about that man. Not that whatever it is isn’t a turn-on for girls like me, but just to look at him and the girl, he had me about to let go my bladder. No, I did not pee! I’d be damned if I’d be running for the pee pot, which was the only facilities that was made available. But there he was with that pretty thing, who in my opinion did not belong anywhere near the asylum, looking like she was going to faint, if not that, pummel his chest with her tiny fists.

  She didn’t do either one.

  Miss Priss just breathes hard and heavy, staring into those cold grey eyes. I stared at them enough. I know what it’s like to have them drilling me, or his hot breath raise the hackles on my skin.

  C’mon, I’m silently telling the girl, either get with it or walk away. Once you’re inside this door there’s no going back.

  I start to wonder—I mean I’m thinkin’ real fast here, cause hardly a minute’s gone by. But you know how time slows to a crawl, like someone’s stretching it with a rubber band? Any second you expect it to break,
and woah! Then you’re reeling back on your heels trying to catch yerself from fallin’?

  God love her, she stood her ground for better part of that obscene minute. I gotta admit, I was rooting for them both; for her to best him and for him to have her down on her knees.

  I must have been extra special psychic that night—or just so deep into the scene that I knew what was coming, because damn, with my next breath of air I see her drop to her knees. She clutched him like she cared for him, but he, like a cold motherfucker, backs off. He says something like maybe “Crawl, bitch”—we couldn’t really hear—and suddenly, the little thing is crawling through that dusty yard on her hands and knees.

  She gets to the door and we’re able to hear the guard tell West, “She’s got to take off her clothes,” just like he told Billy.

  “Who the hell runs this show anyway?” West snaps.

  We can’t see anything now, but it’s no surprise to see the girl crawling through the door of our waiting room seconds later with West right behind her.

  He immediately glares at me, as if he expects me to blurt something out.

  “What the hell are you looking at!” I fulfill his expectation in fine style, then immediately clamp my hand over my loose-lipped mouth. I want to say ‘sorry’ so bad, but that’s only going to make matters worse. Now I have both West and the guard looking at me as if they are going to take me apart. When West pulls that Dom thing on me, my cunt gets so hot I think it’s going to explode. But then, just when I think I’m really in for it, he turns to the guard, whispers something we can’t hear, and stalks off, entering the belly of the building like a man on a mission.

  The waiting room emptied fast after that, one by one collared, naked females disappearing into the night until there was just the girl and me. She was looking pretty sad sitting in a corner by the door with her feet drawn up and her head resting on her knees.

  Little ‘ole, can’t-help-herself me, finally thinks we’re out of the earshot, so I moved over and sat on the bench beside her. “What’s your name?” I asked.

  She looks up, a little shocked to hear me speak.

  “Yeah, I know, I’ll probably get clobbered for this, but you look like you need the company. What are rules if not to be broken?”

  She tried to smile. “I’m Evie,” she whispered in a breathy voice I could barely hear. At least she didn’t look so godawful sad.

  “Why are you here if you’re so miserable?” I says, as if I’m ready for a real heart-to-heart—heck, once you break the rules, might as well go all out. “You know you don’t have to stay?”

  I thought she was going to answer back, but suddenly her eyes get all huge, and I turn around to see Billy and West standing there looking at me.

  I could have knit me a sweater in the dragged out minute that followed. I mean any second I expected the wrath of God to come crashing down around me, just didn’t know which man would do the fire and brimstone.

  Turned out, neither one.

  We waited, all breathless and worried, for another terrible minute. I could feel my insides come alive for the thousandth time. Beat me, please! I could almost hear myself crying out—although I held my tongue. I was ready, all charged up. But, damn, if those two miserable bastards didn’t do a thing. They didn’t even say a word.

  Suddenly, all the tension eases off, Billy grabs me by the arm and hauls me into the insanity beyond the swinging door. I could already hear the screams from the other side. The last I saw of the girl, West was staring down at her and she was looking up at him with a pair of tear-filled eyes. Here I thought sweet little innocent Evie was being dragged into this scene kicking and screaming, but I’ll be damned if there wasn’t a glimmer of desire in her tear-soaked eyes. She’s a fuckin’ actress, a drama queen, I’m thinking, and I can’t wait to see the sweet thing suffer.

  ***

  By the time I got to the fun and games, I was really itching to be there. But that’s Billy for you; he knew that I’d just suffer all the more being made to wait. And isn’t that what these weekends are all about—making poor little Jewel suffer?

  There’s lots of action going on. No main room that I know of; just a long string of rooms with agonized women in the throes of passion, beaten, raped, fisted. What an indecent lot we are. The men, a bunch of brutes.

  I forgot to mention, by the way, Billy looked like a real bad-ass stud that night; dressed for riding his Harley, slick leather pants, dark shirt, vest, buzz-cut on top, full dark beard and a real killer expression. Looks like he was born with a whip in his hand—yeah, he had that too: the long black bullwhip I expected to be coiled around my throat before the night was out.

  We kept on through that long dark hall, peering into rooms at scenes that would shock most eyes. I could have stayed to watch, but Billy wasn’t interested. He took me up a flight of stairs to another hallway, and finally into a room much bigger than those I’d seen so far. I figured it to be the asylum’s mess hall, although the place was far from welcoming. The peeling linoleum floor was once a real sharp black and white checkerboard, I’ll bet. Bars over the windows, grimy yellow paint. Doesn’t sound erotic now, does it? But a long rash of goosebumps tickled my flesh as I walked into that seedy space. I could see the madness all around me, the restraints and straight-jackets, electric shocks and evil, experimenting doctors gazing into the faces of terrified inmates. Yeah, that’s just my imaginings, but what if I did go back in time… huh?

  Not so many tuxes that night…even West was looking a little more casual with the tie gone and his collar open. In fact, by the time we finally got upstairs, he was in jeans, not the usual slick tuxedo pants. I’ll be damned if he wasn’t starting to look blue-collar.

  But maybe that was no surprise. The air seemed to breed a different kind of lust; the crazy kind. Whether that’s true or not, I can’t say for sure. Billy tells me that I have a very suggestible mind: I take on something like this and run with it. But why the heck not?

  My skin was prickly, heated, so I was startin’ to sweat and all sticky between my thighs, my ass aching for a good smack. We watched a few players we’d seen before, some getting nasty with chains and whips: a girl going upside down in the air, another girl bound with ropes and hung, and a third being face-slapped, some big interrogation scene I couldn’t follow, although her suffering only made me want to suffer too. Billy had grabbed my ass and was leading me around with those clutching fingers. He kept sayin’ things, whispering to me. I don’t remember what, but I remember feeling threatened, like any minute something’s gonna happen and I’m going to hate it.

  Then suddenly, I hear the name ‘Billy’ called out. West, clear as a bell. Billy stops and turns. I turn too, feeling all that macho authority strike me in the gut. Might as well have been punched—‘cept that’s the one thing I told Billy he could never do to me. Frank did it to me enough for one lifetime. I’m into a different kind of pain now.

  “The whip, Billy,” West says.

  I have no clue what he means, but I learn real fast. Billy whips out his bullwhip quick as lightning, sliding the long length of it across the floor in the man’s direction. Behind West’s legs, there’s the shivering Evie, wide-eyed and worried. She’s still dressed, the only woman with clothes on in the room, wearing the same black, belted shift she had on in the waiting room.

  “Take off your dress,” West orders as he tugs her hair and pulls her forward. It takes some seconds for the girl to act, so long that I want to shout at the bitch, cause I know what’s going happen, and so it does. West gives her a rough kick and finally she’s scrambling out of that dress like it’s on fire.

  I’m glad to see her naked. When she is, she’s no more special than any other slavey female in the room. We’re all the same, at least that’s what we’re supposed to be. Toys. Trinkets. Slaves. Bitches. Properties. They all have their pet name for us. But we’re all the same. Flesh—cunts, asses, tits and mouths. You throw us into a good fantasy and they can do just about anything they want
. We just lap it up and come back for more. After it’s over, we’re used goods. Sore cunts, beaten asses, bruised tits.

  Evie, little princess that she is, ain’t no different. She’s hunched over and trembling, staring at Billy’s whip like it’s going to bite. You bet it bites, girl.

  “Grab the end, Evie,” West finally barks the order. What’s going to happen is enough to make any girl in the room shrink back in horror.

  Clueless, Evie looks up confused.

  “Do what I said,” he nods, giving her one of them sly smiles that take you down another peg.

  I can see her revolt before she finally reaches out. When she does her hands tremble until she finally has the end of Billy’s whip clutched inside her small fist.

  “Now crawl, all the way up that whip on your belly, girl. On your belly.”

  Ooo, damn. I’m so excited, I’m startin’ to wish it was me.

  ‘Course, what she’s doing ain’t easy. Not on a sticky floor like that old linoleum. She can barely budge, which is what makes it so fun and so hard to watch. The whole room is an eye-witness and she knows this as she stares around, so embarrassed that her face is as red as her hair is blond. At least she isn’t running from the scene, gotta give her credit for that.

  Part of me is rooting for her failure because I’d love to see her strung up and whipped. But I’m guessing that’s not going to happen. Soon enough, I suppose, but not yet.

  She clutches the whip and wiggles her ass, trying to scoot forward and climb the whip like she’d climb a rope, except this is a whole lot different than takin’ orders from some dyke gym teacher. You can’t do it with a heart full of pride when that all gets wiped away in a place like this. Makes a girl humble, just a slavish little nothing. And in this case—the mean old West’s personal plaything.

  One hand over the next, her struggle keeps on while tears form in those pretty eyes. She tries to use her knees to thrust her body forward, but West stops her with a barking command. “I said on your belly, girl! And I don’t have all day. You should already know that you’re skating on thin ice with me.” You’d think he’d really hates her, but if I know West, his prick is as hard as all the others in the room.