Breaking Benjamin (NSFW, 18+)

"Good." She runs her hands through his hair, leans down to kiss his forehead again, whispering. "Just a few more days, love."

 

Yosef hums again and closes his eyes, trying to conserve energy. Not much longer, now.

 

Ben swallows hard, still staring. He didn't quite catch those words, but he thinks she said...

God. He wants to ask, he wants to know what's coming, and she won't tell him.

He thinks he knows. The uncertainty doesn't help.

 

The woman licks her fingers clean, walking back over to Ben. She runs her fingers along his arms, humming. "Move your fingers and toes. Is there any numbness?"

 

He obeys, wiggling his toes, then his good hand, before twitching the fingers of his dislocated arm with a low moan. "... Just a little," he whispers. "In that arm."

It feels like his arm's fallen asleep. His pinky finger is numb, moving jerkily, and the numbness climbs halfway up the blade of his forearm.

He hadn't even noticed, past the pain.

 

She hums quietly and moves to the arm, examining it quietly, then gently loosens and unhooks his arm, turning his arm slowly in her hands, then nods, slowly, plants one foot on the edge of the table, fixes her angle, and leans back, pulling on his arm with all her weight.

 

He screams, the nails of his good hand cutting into his palm as he goes rigid with pain. There's a wet, cartilaginous pop, after a minute or two, as his shoulder slides back into place.

 

She pats his arm, humming, then buckles his wrist back into place. "...any other numbness, tingling?"

 

He gives a choked sob. "No. Nothing."

 

"Then it's time to pick back up where we started until bedtime," she smiles thinly, then jerks the mechanical lock out of position and starts cranking the table up. "We'll see if we can get something else to give before that arm. I think that sounds fun. Doesn't it, darling?"

She smiles fondly towards the dessicted body behind her.

 

Ben looks away, meeting Yosef's eyes. "... You're terrifying," he whispers again. Please, please stop.

There's no way out, and he's not sure he can take... god... hours of this?

 

"Correct."

She begins to slowly turn the wheel once more.

 

He screams. He doesn't even try to hold it back.

This time, it's his hip that pops first.

 

"New prize," she murmurs, pausing to move and check the damage, making sure nothing's too ruined. Once her assessment is complete, she silently returns to the wheel, giving it another slow, patient turn, millimeter by millimeter, watching him with hungry eyes.

 

His voice is starting to get hoarse, by the time his elbow dislocates with a sharp snap. He sobs, writhing on the rack, head twisting from side to side like it will somehow let him hide or find some relief.

"Please," he begs, voice cracking.

 

"Beg a little harder. See if it changes anything," she replies flatly, moving to check his arm.

 

He cringes with a broken sob, as if she slapped him. There's no numbness this time, only pain spiking down his forearm.

 

She clicks her tongue thoughtfully. Nursemaid Elbow. Interesting.

This was turning into a lovely study of what the rack could do.

She slips back to the wheel.

One more for the night.

 

He keeps screaming. His bad shoulder pops out of place again.

 

The woman smiles and makes sure he's positioned so his body won't be damaged further through the night, then pats his thigh. "...see you in the morning, Halverson. Sweet dreams~"