Free DYING TO SURVIVE (Dark Erotica) by Scott Hildreth, SD Hildreth Page B

thought of her cancer. What if she were fated, in God’s eyes, to die anyway? She didn’t know the answer, and never would. She stared at the pile of money and tried to remember her days as a teller at the bank when she was 21 years old. Her best recollection was that there was a thousand dollars in a banded stack of one hundred dollar bills. She attempted to calculate the amount of money stacked on the table. She blinked her eyes again and lost track of the stacks she had counted. Frustrated and confused, she looked up and toward Ryan.
    “How much money is there?” she asked softly as she nodded her head in the direction of the money.
    “Five hundred thousand dollars,” Ryan responded sharply.
    Dana shifted her weight in the seat and rotated her shoulders in an effort to get comfortable. She looked at the money, turned and looked at the scalpel, and then at Ryan. Calmly, she looked down at her lap, closed her eyes, and began to pray.
    “I’ll allow you to disfigure me,” she said quietly as she opened her eyes.
    “Interesting. Are you certain?” Ryan asked as he rubbed his hands together.
    “Quite,” she responded without emotion.
    “Outstanding,” Ryan said as he stood from his chair and reached for the stack of towels.
    He picked a towel from the stack, unfolded it, and placed it in the center of the table. Slowly, he walked around the table and stood behind the chair that Dana sat in. he reached into his right pants pocket and removed the handcuff key from his pocket.
    “Lean forward, please. And by all means, don’t try to escape, agreed?” Ryan said as he stood behind her.
    “I won’t,” she assured him as she leaned forward.
    Ryan reached behind Dana and unlocked the handcuffs. Carefully he removed them from her wrists, and placed them on the table beside where she was seated. As he walked toward his seat she raised her hands to the table and rubbed her wrists.
    “I actually prefer not to use the handcuffs to be quite honest. I just feel I need to use something . You know, to deter any kind of bad decisions on your part. And I’m not implying you would attempt anything, it’s just best for both of us. Well, you understand, don’t you?” Ryan asked as he sat down into his chair.
    “Yes I do,” she said as she continued to rub her wrists.
    “And, I don’t want you to think for one minute that this entire thing has been about teaching you a lesson about internet dating sites,” Ryan coughed a laugh as he spoke, covered his mouth with his hand, and continued, “it’s much deeper than that. I wouldn’t gather up four identical women and mentally torture them to teach them a lesson about safe dating. I’m not completely mad. To me, it’s well…”
    “It’s about money. It’s about success. Ultimately, I had to find four particular women. To find you in the typical public setting would have taken a lifetime. It may not even be something I could have done in two lifetimes. I don’t know, Dana. But I know this; having that dating website with the profiles and photographs – that saved tremendous trouble, and has made this venture very profitable.”
    “So, someone is paying you to do this?” Dana asked with a puzzled look on her face.
    “Oh no, quite the contrary. I devised the plan. The game. The entire thing. I developed it myself,” feeling prideful from his accomplishments, Ryan rubbed his hands together and paused from speaking.
    “Game? This is a game ?” Dana asked.
    “Well, it’s difficult to explain. Yes, a game of sorts . I maintain an interest in psychology, and the human mind in general. Sexually speaking, the wilder the desire, the more thought-provoking I find it. Not necessarily for me, so to speak - just stimulating in general . The gentlemen that spend time in the BDSM lifestyle range from interesting to downright scary. While reading profiles and postings on Fetlife’s website - for entertainment purposed only, I might add - I encountered multiple wealthy