Dick and Pain

by Madam Z

Whenever Sadie felt she had been wronged in some way, by some bad person (usually a man), she found great comfort – delight even – in devising a make-believe revenge that was so gruesome it more than made up for whatever the original infraction was. Her most satisfying fantasy concerned Dick, the fuckwad who had dumped her, unceremoniously and without warning, and then showed up at the club the following weekend escorting Dodo, a much younger, long-haired, long-legged blond who clung to him like he was a god, instead of the asswipe he really was. When Sadie had first seen them together, she felt like a knife had been plunged into her heart, but she did not let her distress show; indeed, she forced a smile and, behind her glazed eyes, she began devising her plan. When the happy couple left the club and got into Dick’s car, Sadie would follow them, at a discrete distance, of course, in her Stealthmobile, until they reached Dick’s apartment and then she would park across the street and watch the bedroom window until she was sure the dumb duo were doing their disgusting deeds. Then she would grab her Uzi and sneak up to the house and let herself in (she still had her key), tiptoe up the stairs to the bedroom and burst in, screaming and brandishing her gun, forcing the terrified twosome to get out of the bed and sit back-to-back in two convenient wooden, straight-backed chairs while she bound them, hand and foot, with prickly hemp rope and then gagged them by stuffing dirty socks in their mouths. Then (and this was the really cool part), she would pull a pair of scissors from her pocket, cut off Dodo’s mane of golden hair, nimbly twist it into a silken cord and tie it around the base of Dick’s dick, pulling it oh, so tight, until his eyes bulged with pain, and she would just waltz away, turning out the light behind her, and drive away, making a mental note to be sure to call 911 for them after just enough time had elapsed to guarantee that his DICK WOULD HAVE FESTERED AND FALLEN OFF, but they would still be alive, and, not to worry, nothing would happen to Sadie, because she would be down in Mexico, living La Vida Loca!


Madam Z, author of Headroom, finds her padded cell quite comfortable, thank you.