Chapter 19: The Pit’s Lock
Nerve Breaks – Freedom Slips
By Restrained4U
The pit thrummed, red lights glinting off concrete walls still damp from Leo’s flood, Marcus’s biometric lock a silent warden sealing their fates.
Jamie slumped in his chair, latex uniform slick with sweat, patrol boots scuffed, exhaustion carving jagged lines into his wiry frame – yet a restless spark flickered in his shadowed glare. Marcus lounged, jeans taut, boots planted, chest bare and smooth where wax once clung, sipping his beer slow, kingly ease masking a coiled edge. Ryan sat rigid, leather vest creased, cap low over a cold smirk, leather pants scuffed – defiance simmering beneath the buzz of his last grind, leather creaking where tags once hung. Leo sprawled, chaps rasping against the steel Carrera cage, hair plastered flat, cane welts itching under damp skin, a twisted grin twitching faint through his defeat.
Jamie snatched the black velvet bag from Marcus’s casual toss – latex squeaking as his fingers closed around it, a hungry glint cutting through his fatigue. “My turn – let’s crank this twisted ride,” he rasped, voice raw and reckless, a hint of dark thrill lacing his words as he shook the bag once – clink of cards sharp in the air. He dipped in, fingers brushing a card, and pulled it free – the gold sheen flared under the red glow, sharp and undeniable.
Marcus froze mid-sip, beer bottle hovering, eyes narrowing as the gold hit the light. “Another fuckin’ gold? Pit’s got a soft spot for you, pig-boy,” he growled, tone dripping acid – control prickling as Jamie’s luck doubled down.
Leo’s jaw dropped, chaps creaking as he leaned forward, cage clanking. “No fuckin’ way – again?!” he spat, envy flashing hot; his own gold had cost him vetoes and left him locked, while Jamie kept raking in wins.
Ryan’s cap tilted, a low growl rumbling from his throat. “Gold twice? Bullshit luck – Marine grit’s earned more than that shine,” he muttered, gloved fists flexing, resentment simmering after his grind.
Jamie’s lips split into a jagged grin, savoring the weight of their stares. He set the card down on the scarred table with a deliberate press – gold face-up. He let it sit there like a taunt, gleaming under the red lights. “Let’s see what I’ve scored this round,” he said, voice thick with glee, latex gleaming as he leaned in to read aloud – “Get Out of Jail Free – escape any dare, or punishment, one-time use. Earn it: unlock Smith & Wesson chained handcuffs behind your back, key in hand, within six minutes. Succeed, and the pit bends to your will; fail, and the reward burns.” He tapped it once with a finger, grin widening – “Untouchable, fuckers.” The words hung, a spark igniting the pit’s tension.
Marcus set his beer down – clink sharp – standing slow, boots thudding as he crossed to the wall, snatching a pair of Smith & Wesson handcuffs from a hook. “Earn it,” he growled, chain rattling as he stepped to Jamie. “Hands back.” Jamie rose, latex creaking, turning to offer his wrists – Marcus snapped the cuffs on, steel biting skin, chain linking them loose but firm. He pressed the small key into Jamie’s right hand, a smirk curling – “Six minutes, pig-boy – don’t fuck it up.” Ryan grabbed a timer from the counter, setting it to six – beep – and leaned back, smirking cold. “Tick-tock, cop – move.”
Jamie twisted, key slipping in sweaty fingers as he probed for the first keyhole – latex squeaked with each shift, his breath hitching.
Leo leaned in, chaps rasping – “Fumble it, deal-bitch – back to the sludge you crawled from.” His voice cut, bitter from the veto trade that still stung.
Ryan snorted, cap shadowing his glare – “Hurry up – Corps’d be free by now, not sweatin’ like a pig.”
Marcus crossed his arms, counting down slow – “Four minutes left…” – voice a taunt, watching Jamie squirm.
The key grazed the left cuff’s slot – Jamie twisted his wrist, chain clinking, but it slipped, tumbling to the concrete at 2:30 – “Fuck!” he spat, dropping to a squat, chained hands scraping the floor. His fingers brushed it, fumbling, snagging it by 3:00 – sweat beaded on his brow, latex sticking as he straightened. He worked it back, finding the hole – click at 4:30, left cuff falling loose, dangling from the chain. All he had to do was bring his hands to his front – he was standing – right cuff still locked, key now steady in his grip. Leo laughed sharp – “Tickin’ down, thief!” – but Jamie slotted it in, turned – click at 5:00, the second cuff dropping free as the timer blared – beep-beep-beep.
Jamie stood, cuffs swinging from one hand, chest heaving – latex slicker now, boots scuffing as he tossed the cuffs to the table with a clank. He plucked the gold card from its spot, tucking it into his latex belt with a raspy chuckle – “Fuck your dares – I’m untouchable now.” His grin was wild, exhaustion fueling a reckless edge, eyes darting across their faces – Marcus’s tightened jaw, Leo’s sour glare, Ryan’s grudging squint. He sank back into his chair, latex creaking, snagging his beer and taking a long sip – foam glinting as he steadied his breath.
Marcus stepped forward, boots thudding, grabbing the black velvet bag from the table – his smirk darkened, eyes glinting as he settled deeper into his chair. “Your turn’s done, pig-boy – pit’s mine now,” he growled, shaking the bag once – clink sharp – Jamie’s second gold a thorn in his side, power tilting in the locked dungeon. The red lights pulsed, shadows stretching, waiting for Marcus to strike back.
To be continued…
