I’m gonna add a CW for this one for body suspension, just to be sure. I haven’t made it gory but I can understand it may be gory mental image. Which I now gave you anyway. Sorry.
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“Well, you look absolutely ghastly.”
“Good morning to you too,” Jeff grunted, annoyed. He stretched out his arms and felt his body creak and pop. Sleeping on the bare floor was not as therapeutic for his body as some minimalists may preach. He pressed a hand absentmindedly over his face, trying to rub away the exhaustion and he felt a soft stubble. He was a little glad there was no mirror here. Judging from Eric’s look, he wouldn’t be surprised if the bags under his eyes blew up his face, and combined with the bruise that still bloomed on his cheekbone, he would take Eric’s word that he looked like hell.
After yesterday’s ‘demonstration’ he hadn’t been able to sleep well and he was kind of relieved to see Eric had returned to his devil-may-care state of mind this morning. He hoped he’d never have to see Eric’s psycho side again. It probably wouldn’t end well for him. But that had probably been the whole point of the show; making sure Jeff would stay on his good side.
“There’s a bathroom down the hall,” Eric said. “If you want to take a shower, I suggest you do it now, before…” he trailed off with a grin, “well, before we begin our day.”
“And be covered in sweat and-- “ he swallowed the word ‘blood’, not wanting to jinx himself, “grime by the time you’re done? No thanks, I prefer to wash away your filth at the end of the day.”
Eric shrugged. “Suit yourself. So, do I need to call in some muscle or will you follow me to the next room?”
The snarl on Jeff’s face revealed his hesitation. On the one hand he wanted to make this as hard as possible for Eric, but on the other hand he wanted to make it easier on himself. He was the lamb being lead to slaughter, problem being that he didn’t know what the butcher had in store for him. Deciding on saving his strength for when he needed it, he nodded and let Eric cuff his hands again before he beckoned him to walk ahead. He could hear Eric humming a tune behind him as he was led into a basement.
Jeff gasped as he entered a white tiled room and he saw the hooks hanging from the ceiling. “You have got to be joking.” In reply he felt a shove to his back.
“Did you do this to Nat?” Jeff blurted out his main concern.
“God, no. They’re too small and sensitive for brutal violence like this. What do you take me for.” Eric huffed and closed the door. He moved over to Jeff, who was still staring up at the flesh hooks in horror and bent over the man, clutching his neck.
“Don’t worry. Did you know people actually do this voluntarily? For fun? Apparently it’s spiritual or something. Gets you in a trance. I’ve met with someone who does it regularly, though he said it’s not supposed to hurt as much as it looks, so maybe I’m doing something wrong, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “And to be quite honest, the people I get in here don’t do this voluntarily.”
“Nor will I,” Jeff growled. He tried to step away, but Eric kept a firm grasp on his neck and pulled him back.
“I didn’t expect you to. You can make it easier on yourself, though.” He gave a side glance down and took in the stoic figure next to him trying so hard to hide his concern. He stood rigid still, as if the slightest movement would betray his fear. “No?” Eric’s lips curved. His grip on Jeff’s neck turned bruising and as Jeff winced and drew back, Eric pulled him off balance and with a kick to the back of his legs made Jeff collapse at his feet.
He made Jeff kneel and cuffed his hands to a hook bolted to the floor. “All for your own safety,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you to trash about and rip your own skin off while I set you up.” He pulled at one of the hooks to pull it down and held it up so Jeff could see.
Jeff glanced up and gulped. It wasn’t a very sharp hook, meaning it would hurt more. He shifted a little and felt his knee move over something. When he looked down he paled as he saw he was kneeling on top of a drain, directly below the hooks.
“What’s with the drain? Will it bleed that much?” Jeff barely recognized the high tone of his own voice, laced with fear and worry.
“Sometimes you need to show people what happens to squealers. So I string them up here by hooking their ankles and slit their throat after a bit of fun.”
Jeff’s face twisted in shock and disgust.
“Don’t worry,” Eric said again. “Not gonna do that to you. You may be a pig, but you’re no squealer.” He bend over Jeff and leaned on his shoulders. “Apologies, I meant in the way of a derogatory insult for cops. I’m not calling you a pig, that’d be rude.”
With a final twist against his cuffs, the feeling started to sink in that there was no way out of this and that this was going to happen. The only thing that now stood between Jeff and having flesh hooks in his back was the shirt he was still wearing. Something that with a hum and a slice of the knife was easily solved. Jeff suppressed a shiver against the cold and the feeling of being exposed and defenseless. This was one thing where struggling would only make it worse.
“The hooks are disinfected, it’s all sterile.”
“That really puts my mind at ease,” Jeff said dryly.
Eric knelt down next to him, taking one of the hooks down with him. “The right way, apparently, is to pierce the skin first with sharp needles.” He forced Jeff’s head down and inspected his exposed back, scratching the dull hook lightly over Jeff’s skin. “But there’s no fun in that.”
He moved his fingers over Jeff’s back, exploring the skin, pressing down here and there. Once he found a good spot he pinched the skin on Jeff’s shoulder blade. “The right way is often quite boring, don’t you think?” he commented.
The hook tingled cold against Jeff’s back. “No, wait, stop,” he tried to look back but Eric let go of the skin and pushed his head back.
“Don’t,” he warned. “This is a delicate process. Keep still or I might… damage something permanently. In fact…” The pressure of the hook disappeared and Jeff sighed in relief. “I think it’s better if you’re just face-down.” He guided Jeff up on his knees and forced him to lay down on his stomach. Settling a knee on his lower back, Eric pinned him in place, now ensured the detective wasn’t able to move much.
“Better.”
Jeff was breathing was frantic now, drawing fast and shallow breaths into his lungs.
“You’re not in the right mindset here, detective,” Eric chided. “Relax, have no fear, approach this with an open mind and who knows, maybe it will be spiritual for you as well.” He laughed. “No one here’s had that luxury, though.”
Jeff’s tense shoulders hitched all the way up, his balled fists pressing hard into the floor.
"Relax, it should make it easier. Come on, release that tension."
Easier for you or for me?! But Jeff grasped at any straw that might offer some relief. He took a deep breath and felt his fists unclench, his shoulders relaxing into the floor.
"That's it, deep breaths."
"Just do it already!" Jeff bit.
The cold pressure of the hook made him twitch and he willed himself to relax. Until all of a sudden he felt the hook pierce his skin. He snapped his teeth together to keep any sound of pain locked in, but his guttural grunts still slipped free.
It was an agonising pain as the dull steel forced its way in. Jeff could feel the curve of the hook snaking under his skin. He was shaking all over, the pain itself, the effort to keep still and keep the pain bottled in made all his muscles clench in protest. His legs scrambled uselessly, his nails scratched over the floor, but he tried to keep his torso still. As he felt the hook trying to pierce its way through his skin again but this time from the inside, he couldn’t hold back a scream. He slumped in relief as the first part was over. A little drop of blood tickled his skin.
"That’s one," came the bastard's honeyed voice. "I’ve been told this is the most painful part, so bite through."
"Not that you would know," Jeff panted.
"Not that I would know," Eric agreed with a smile. He stood and pulled another hook down.
In his mind Jeff was screaming desperately. No. Not again. No. No! Don't! But his stubbornness only turned his protest into a sharp gasp as the second hook started to dig into his shoulder.
“Taking it like a champ.” Eric muttered absentmindedly, fully concentrated on his task, his mocking words more of an afterthought. It wasn’t the first time he’d done this but he knew it was easy to mess up, especially with an unwilling participant straining beneath him. He tried to pierce deep and lodge most part of the hook under the skin, making sure it would hold the weight. Which added a nice bonus of inflicting more pain during the process. The body under him relaxed when the hook had forced through again and he removed the pressure on the steel, though Jeff still shuddered.
The weight lifted from Jeff’s lower back and shifted over to his legs as Eric reached out for another hook.
“No, don’t,” Jeff started weakly. “No more.” He could live with just some cuts, a knife would carve through him easily, but the feeling of a dull object forced between his skin and muscles was sickening. It felt unnatural, not just the pain, but the thought of that hook pulling him up and the gnawing feeling that this would cause irreparable damage was draining Jeff. It felt like an invasion.
“If you’re sure, we could leave it at this. I must warn you though that your skin probably won’t be able to handle the weight and you’ll rip your own skin off. That what you want?” Eric moved around so he could look at Jeff. He let the rope slide through his hands, gripping the end of it.
Jeff pressed his forehead to the ground and shook his head.
“Beg for it then. Beg for more or I’ll hoist you up.”
Goddamnit. Jeff knew Eric had him right where he wanted. He would never beg to stop a beating or whatever, something Eric realized all too well by bringing out the big guns. But the threat of having to rip the skin off his own back, that was something else entirely.
If he had to choose between having either his back or his dignity shredded, he'd choose the latter.
"Fine then, give me more,” Jeff grit through his teeth.
“Give you more pain? Sure thing, chief,” Eric called out and moved his hands over the ropes, ready to pull.
“You fucking asshole, you know exactly what I mean!”
“Miscommunication is a thing, you know. Also, that’s no way to ask a favor to someone who is… pulling the strings.” Eric smirked at his own joke and tugged lightly at the ropes. Jeff gasped as he felt his skin pull up.
“Okay! Please, add some more hooks so it can support my weight, Eric, please.” The words were delivered snarling and growling with murder in his eyes, but Eric took what he could get.
“Good call.” He let the ropes go slack and pulled another hook down.
fuck it, this is a thing i do and i want to start sharing it on my personal page, but i’ll keep the squick level/blood to a minimum: 25th birthday ocean hook suspension. <3
matted 5x7″ or 16x20″ prints are available of this and my other body mod work. message me if interested.
Last year, with my magickal sisterhood of hooks, Coven Of Ashes.
Our public ritual honoring Alse Young, the first woman tried and executed for witchcraft in the American colonies, on the anniversary of her death (May 26, 1647). Using a flesh hook suspension as a human pendulum above a massive spirit board.
