Contracts of the Heart

Chapter 1: In-Call

The buzzer always made an ugly sound that screamed through the whole apartment.

Becca checked the mirror. Red lips. Sharp eyes. The face of a killer. She pulled the knot of her silk robe tighter.

-Showtime, she whispered.

She hit the intercom.

-Come up.

He trotted up the stairs and knocked hard on the door.

She opened it.

Art filled the frame. Expensive suit. Dead eyes. He held a yellow envelope.

-Hey, babe, Becca purred. What did you bring me?

Art walked past her, into the room, tossing the envelope on the cheap Ikea table. It landed with a slap.

-A fat wad of cash, babe.

Becca stared at the envelope. The thickness of it made her mouth water. She swallowed her greed. It tasted like bile. She walked over to him and the money.

-Just how I like it, fat.

She reached out. Her fingers brushed his hand. His skin was cold. Dry. Like paper.

-Let me see what you've got there, baby.

She plucked the envelope up. She opened the flap slowly.

A brick of hundred. Clean and crisp.

Her eyes widened with hunger.

-Mmm, she purred. Very impressive. Looks like you mean serious business.

She pulled the blue stack out. Fanned it. She let the edges brush against the swell of her cleavage before tucking it into her black lace bra.

Art moved. Fast.

His hand shot out, snatching the brick back from her warmth.

-Uh uh, he said. It's pay as you go, doll.

Becca blinked. The cold spot on her chest ached where the money had been. She forced a laugh.

-Oh, oh. Playing hardball already, are we, baby boy?

She stepped into his space. Traced a nail down the lapel of his jacket.

-I like a man who knows what he wants.

Art stared down at her

-I'll give you a hundred dollars, he said. To rip my pants off. And suck me until I get hard.

Becca froze at his tone, then smiled.

-Standard rates apply, Daddy. But for you? Maybe I'll make an exception.

She dropped to her knees and sunk her teeth into his pants.

Chapter 2: Negotiations

The sound of tearing fabric was loud.

Becca pulled back. She spat a thread of expensive wool onto the carpet. She looked up, expecting a reaction.

Art just watched her.

He reached into his jacket. Pulled out a single crisp bill. Dropped it.

It fluttered down and landed on her shoulder as she took him whole in her mouth.

-Good girl, he groaned.

She kept going until his groans grew silent and she brought him to completion.

Becca plucked the bill from her skin. She stood up, brushing her knees.

-I aim to please, Daddy. Want to go again? Another hundred?

Art ignored the question. He walked to the window.

-I don't have time for this nickel and dime bullshit.

Becca stiffened.

-Hey now. You came to me. Rates are rates.

Art turned. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit again. This time, he didn't pull out a bill. He pulled out the rest of the brick. And another. And another. And a few more.

He stacked them on the Ikea table. Three pillars of blue-striped hundreds.

Becca's breath hitched. It was a lot.

-What is this? she asked.

-Fifty grand. Cash. A down payment.

Becca stared at the money.

-For what?

-For everything, Art said. No more hourly rates. No more negotiations. You're mine until I say you're not.

Becca looked at him. A warning bell rang deep in her brain. Run. She looked at the money on the table and ignored it.

She walked over. Ran a hand over the stacks.

-Everything? she asked.

-Yeah.

Becca laughed. She could handle this. Just another man with a weird kink. Becca Sunshine could survive anything.

-You got a deal, baby, she said.

She reached for the money.

-Leave it, Art snapped. There's more.

Becca froze.

-Get your coat, we're leaving.

Becca hesitated. She looked at the money, then at the door.

-Sure, Art, she said. Lead the way.

Chapter 3: Out-Call

The car was long and black. It looked like a hearse designed by an accountant.

Art held the door open. He stared through her.

-Get in.

Becca slid onto the seat. It was cold. The door slammed shut.

Art got in the driver's seat. The partition glass slid up with a quiet hiss. Becca was alone in the back.

She leaned forward. Tapped on the glass.

-Hey. Where are we going?

Art put the car in gear.

Her neighborhood moved past the window. The corner where she bought her cigarettes. The bar where she met her first client.

Becca sat back. She crossed her legs. She imagined the cash.

-Easy money, she whispered to the empty seats.

She pulled out her compact mirror and checked her face.

Becca Sunshine stared back. Perfect skin. Dead eyes. Solid mask.

She smiled at herself. The reflection smiled back.

The car turned onto a highway. The streetlights thinned out. The buildings shrank.

Becca felt a prickle of unease. A static charge on her skin.

She looked at her phone.

No Service.

She looked at the back of Art's head. He hadn't moved.

The car slowed.

They passed a gate. Iron. High.

The car stopped.

The partition slid down.

-We're here, Art said.

Becca looked out the window. A concrete block. Modern. Cold.

It's not a mansion, it's a compound, she thought to herself.

She swallowed.

She forced the smile back onto her face.

-Nice place, Daddy. Very... private.

-Get out, Art said.

Becca opened the door. The air was cold.

She stepped out of the car, leaving the compact mirror on the seat.

Chapter 4: Welcoming Committee

Art walked in front of Becca to the big door of the concrete home and pushed it open.

Becca stepped inside behind him.

The door sealed shut.

A thin woman was waiting inside. Her blonde hair was pulled back tight.

Becca laughed.

-A welcoming committee? You spoil me, Art.

The thin woman looked at Becca like she was reading a nutrition label on a can of soup.

-Strip her, Art said.

Becca blinked.

-Excuse me?

Shadows peeled off the wall behind the doctor.

Two women. Giants. Amazons built of slab muscle and silence. They wore white scrubs that looked ready to burst at the seams.

They moved in unison.

Becca took a step back. Her heel caught on the polished marble.

-Hey, wait. This wasn't in the---

One of the Amazons grabbed Becca's arm. The grip was iron, absolute.

The other reached for the zipper of her dress.

-Art! Becca yelled. She looked at him.

Art was checking his watch.

-Protocol, babe. Outside clothes are contaminants.

They pulled the zipper down. The dress pooled on the floor.

Becca stood in her black lace lingerie. The expensive set she bought. It looked cheap now.

-Bra, the thin woman said.

The Amazon snapped the clasp. The black lace fell.

Becca tried to cover herself. Instinct.

The second Amazon pulled her hands down. Pinned them to her sides.

-Panties.

Gone.

Becca stood naked under the harsh lighting. She shivered. She felt small. Pale. Soft.

The thin woman walked a circle around her. She poked a gloved finger into Becca's side. Lifted her chin. Checked her pupils.

-You like them thick, the thin woman said to Art.

She turned to the Amazons.

-Prep the suite.

Art looked at Becca. His eyes traveled down her shivering body.

-Yes, he said.

He walked away, deeper into the house.

Becca tried to follow him with her eyes, but the Amazons were already moving her, guiding her like livestock.

Becca looked down at the pile of clothes on the floor. The dress. The heels. The lace. A dead body.

-My shoes, she whispered.

-Walk, the Amazon said.

Becca walked. Barefoot on the cold marble.

Chapter 5: The Performance

The suite was vast. White leather. Chrome. Mirrors on the ceiling. It looked like a stage.

The Amazons marched Becca to the center of the room and let go.

She stumbled, finding her balance on the plush white carpet.

Art was already there. He was sitting in a high-backed chair, legs crossed, watching her.

The thin woman stood next to him. She held a tablet. The screen glowed against her pale face.

Becca wrapped her arms around herself.

-Cozy, she said. Her voice shook. She hated that it shook.

Art pointed a finger at the bed. A massive, circular thing in the center of the room.

-Get on it.

Becca hesitated. She looked at the thin woman.

-With an audience? I usually charge double for---

-You've been paid, Art said. Get on the bed.

Becca swallowed the retort. She walked to the bed and climbed up. The sheets were cold and slippery. She sat on her knees, trying to find a pose that felt powerful.

She fell into the muscle memory. Arched back. Pouted lips. The cam girl special.

-Look at me, Art said.

Becca locked eyes with him.

-I'm looking, Daddy.

-I want the girlfriend, Art said. I want the love. The passion. I want you to tell me how much you need me.

Becca blinked. It was such a pathetic request.

She smiled. She could do this in her sleep.

-Oh, I need you, Art. I need you so bad. You're the only one who---

-Louder, Art said.

Becca ramped it up. She crawled to the edge of the bed. She touched her own breast, dragging a nail down her skin.

-I'm crazy for you. I want your hands on me. I want you to own me.

-Vital signs are flat, the thin woman said. She tapped the tablet. She's lying.

Art nodded.

-She's bad at this.

Becca flushed.

-I'm giving you what you paid for!

Art stood up. He walked to the edge of the bed and loomed over her.

-I paid for Becca Sunshine, he said. The killer. Show me the hunger.

He unbuckled his belt.

-Convince me, he said. Or the doctor gives you a shot that will make you convince me.

Becca looked at the thin woman.

She looked back at Art. She didn't have to act the hunger anymore. She was terrified of what happened if she failed.

She reached for him. Her hands were trembling.

-I want it, she hissed. Give it to me. Please.

Art looked down at her. He studied her desperation.

-Better, he said.

He grabbed her hair. Yanked her head back.

-Now perform.

Becca opened her mouth. She started the show. But for the first time in years, she wasn't directing it.

She felt like a prop.

Chapter 6: Empty

Art stopped.

The room went quiet.

Becca lay on the bed, chest heaving, waiting for the next command. She kept her face arranged.

Art looked down at her.

He reached out to touch her cheek. His thumb brushed away a bead of sweat.

-You can drop it, he said softly.

Becca blinked.

-Drop what, Daddy?

-The act, Art said. The cam girl script.

He looked tired.

-I'm going to keep doing this, he said. I'm going to debase you. I'm going to break this body down until it's just raw nerves. But I need to know something first.

Becca stared at him, fear in her chest.

-What? she whispered.

-Do you understand that I don't care about the character? Art asked. Becca Sunshine is cheap. I can buy her anywhere.

He leaned in close.

-It's the empty girl that wears her that I cherish.

Becca felt a chill go down her spine.

She looked at him.

-I see you, Art whispered. Do you trust me?

Becca swallowed.

-OK, she said.

Art nodded.

-And this? What we're about to do? Is this the character? Or is it you?

Becca looked at the ceiling mirrors. She saw herself, a girl on a bed, ready to unravel.

-It's me, she said.

She reached out. She took his hand.

- I want you to ruin me, she murmured. I want, I want to be gone.

-Good, he said, squeezing her hand.

He stood up.

-Then let's fill you up.

He turned to the Amazons.

-Restrain her. For real this time.

Chapter 7: The Escalation

Time dissolved. It ceased to be minutes and hours. It became a loop of friction and impact.

Becca was pinned to the bed.

The Amazons had moved in.

One held Becca's arms above her head.

The other held her legs open. Wide. Like a wishbone waiting to snap.

Art moved with the relentless, piston-like rhythm of an engine.

He was watching the connection point. The mechanics of the act.

-Harder, he grunted.

Becca tried to arch her back. Tried to meet the thrust. Her muscles screamed. Sweat slicked her skin, turning the silk sheets into a swamp.

-I... I can't, she gasped. Art, please. I need a minute.

Art kept pumping.

-Did I say stop?

He grabbed her hip. His fingers dug in, finding the bone.

-The doctor says your heart rate is only at one-twenty, he said. You can take more.

Becca looked past him. The thin woman was still there. Watching the tablet.

-Endorphin levels rising, the doctor said. She's fighting it. But the body is responding.

Becca wanted to scream that she wasn't responding. She was dying.

But her body was betraying her. The friction was too constant. Too precise. The pain of the stretching was bleeding into the pleasure of the filling.

-No, Becca moaned with a plea.

-Yes, Art growled.

He increased the pace. It was punishing.

Becca's head thrashed against the pillows. The Amazon holding her arms tightened the grip.

-Hold her still, Art commanded.

The Amazon leaned her weight down. Becca was immobilized. A butterfly pinned to a board.

She closed her eyes. The darkness behind her eyelids was spinning.

She stopped trying to perform. She stopped trying to be the girlfriend. She stopped trying to be Becca Sunshine.

She just tried to breathe.

The pleasure hit her like a rogue wave. It was a nervous system overload. A white spark in the black.

She cried out. Sharp. High.

-Oh god!

Art slapped her cheek. Not hard enough to bruise. Just hard enough to focus her.

-Look at me.

Becca opened her eyes. They were wet. Unfocused.

-Who owns this? Art asked. He drove into her.

Becca sobbed. The wall was crumbling.

-You do, she whispered.

-Who?

-You! she screamed. You do!

Art smiled. It was the first time he smiled.

-Good. Again.

He didn't stop. The loop reset.

Chapter 8: Lobotomy

The motion stopped. Finally.

Becca lay in the wreckage of the bed. Her limbs felt like water. Her lungs burned, trying to pull oxygen from the thin, conditioned air.

She stared at the ceiling mirror. The reflection was blurry. A smear of pale skin and blonde hair. She didn't recognize herself.

The Amazons stepped back. They stood like statues, chests heaving slightly.

Art stood by the bed. He was adjusting his cufflinks. As if he hadn't just spent hours dismantling a human being.

-Status? he asked.

The thin woman stepped forward. She shone a penlight into Becca's eyes.

Becca didn't blink. The light didn't hurt. It just felt far away.

-Pupils dilated, the doctor said. Dopamine overload. Serotonin syndrome imminent. She's high.

-Natural high, Art said.

He leaned down. Placed a hand on Becca's forehead. His hand was still cold.

-Becca.

Becca rolled her head. It felt heavy. Like a bowling ball on a string.

-Hmm?

-Where are you? Art asked.

Becca licked her lips. They tasted like salt.

-Floating, she whispered. I'm floating.

-What about the money? Art asked. Do you want the money?

Becca frowned. The word didn't make sense. Money.

-Paper, she mumbled. Just paper.

Art stroked her hair.

-And your mind? How is your mind?

Becca closed her eyes. She looked inside.

She giggled. It was a wet, broken sound.

-Smooth, she said. It feels smooth. Like a polished stone.

She reached up. Grabbed Art's wrist. Her grip was weak.

-You're doing it. You're fucking my brains out. It's a lobotomy.

The thin woman looked up from her tablet.

-Subject is verbalizing the desired outcome. Dissociation is complete.

Art looked at Becca. Her eyes were welcoming the void.

-I want to be empty, Becca whispered. A tear leaked from the corner of her eye. Please. Make me empty.

Art pulled his hand away.

-You're almost there, babe.

He turned to the Amazons.

-Bring the cage.

Chapter 9: The Gold Cage

The sound of heavy wheels on marble filled the room.

The cage, with gold bars.

The Amazons hauled Becca off the ruined bed. She was a rag doll.

They tossed her inside. The floor of the cage was cold metal.

Becca pushed herself up on trembling arms.

-What is this? she slurred. Am I a zoo animal now?

Art stood on the other side.

-You're whatever I say you are.

He stepped closer. He stopped inches from the bars.

-Come here.

Becca hesitated.

Art pointed down.

-Come. Here.

Becca crawled. Her knees dragged on the cold floor.

Art reached through. He grabbed her hair. Yanked her face against the bars. The cold gold pressed into her cheek.

-Open, he said.

He unzipped his pants.

Becca opened her mouth. She didn't have a choice.

He used the bars. He pressed her against them, using the metal to hold her in place while he used her mouth.

-Good girl, he groaned.

He pulled back. Becca slumped against the bars, gasping.

Art looked down at her. He looked at the bars separating his skin from hers.

He frowned.

-I hate it, he said.

Becca looked up, wiping her mouth.

-Hate what?

He kicked the cage. The gold vibrated.

-It's in the way. It keeps me from you.

He looked at her with a hunger.

He reached for the latch. The lock clicked. A sharp, mechanical sound. He swung the door open and stepped inside. The cage shrank.

He dropped to his knees. He grabbed her waist and pulled her down to the metal floor. Becca gasped as the cold steel bit into her spine. Art settled between her legs.

He looked down at her. His eyes were wild.

-You broke me first, he whispered.

He drove into her. He buried himself to the hilt in one motion.

Becca cried out.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking him in.

He moved with a desperate rhythm. Grinding her against the cold floor. He buried his face in her neck.

-Mine, he growled against her skin.

He flooded her. He collapsed on top of her, his weight pinning her to the floor. They lay there. Tangled in each other, breathing, heaving in sync.

Art lifted his head. He looked at where they were joined. He looked at the sweat making their skin stick together.

-I want to be deeper inside you. All the way.

He turned to the thin woman on the other side of the gold bars, watching

-This isn't enough, he growled.

-The coffin? the doctor asked.

-The coffin, Art said. Bring it in.

Chapter 10: The Coffin

The glass coffin arrived on wheels.

It was beautiful and terrifying. A hollowed out crystal.

The Amazons rolled it into the cage.

Art stood up. He pulled Becca with him.

She was unsteady. Her legs were jelly.

-Get in, Art said.

He stepped over the rim first, laying into the coffin.

-Come to me.

Becca climbed in. She straddled him.

It was a tight fit. The walls squeezed them together. There was no escape.

The thin woman stepped into the cage. She carried a tray.

On it lay two long, clear tubes. And rolls of shimmering, translucent gauze.

-The lungs, the doctor said.

She leaned over the coffin. She inserted a tube into Art's nostril. Then Becca's.

Becca gagged.

-Breathe, the thin woman commanded.

The tubes trailed out of the coffin, hooked to a machine that wheezed.

Then came the gauze.

The Amazons took the rolls. They began to wind.

Around Art's shoulders. Around Becca's waist.

Binding them.

Layer after layer of translucent gauze.

It covered Becca's back. It covered Art's chest. It wrapped their arms, pressing them into each other.

Becca watched through the haze as her body disappeared.

-Tighter, Art mumbled. His voice was muffled.

The Amazons pulled. Becca's ribs creaked. She was crushed against him. Her breasts flattened against his chest. Her hips ground into his.

They were a single organism now. A two-backed monster wrapped in silk.

The thin woman stepped back. She checked the seal.