Chapter 1 - The "contract"

“You know what you're agreeing to?”

“I need to suffer, it needs to kill me, but I also have to be addicted to whatever it is so I can't escape. You choose the method and if I change my mind I have nothing. No money, no clothes, no ride out of this forest.”

“My favorite package. With me, the method is typically the same between clients with different tweeks for different personalities. No one has ever 'renegged' on one of my contracts, so I never have to worry about being branded a one-trick-pony, as they say. “

“Don't tell me what it is. I only want to know after there's no going back.“

“You passed my personalized psych eval, so for better or probably worse your mental state makes you amenable to completing my process without causing me too many problems. I don't NEED to know your exact reasons for signing my Ultimate Punishment Plus Hospice contract, but it helps me customize the experience.” The Caregiver gave a sassy shimmy and a wink. The soon-to-be permanent “nurse” was disarmingly casual about the whole affair, which The Sinner appreciated.

“I've done something…it’s unforgivable. Objectively. I deserve to die. I can't bring myself to say what it is, ever again, or…take responsibility for it. I’m not brave enough to end my life myself, and paying for an unexpected death isn't enough. I don't know if there’s a heaven or hell so I…NEED to make sure I, um…pay. I just know who I am as a person, so the only way I can follow through on this punishment is if it’s easy. I need the person that I am to ruin my life, completely, in private.” The Sinner knew deeply that she absolutely couldn’t face the horror of her crime in a way that was of any benefit to society beyond her absence from it. The idea of allowing a stranger to live out a sexual murder fantasy on such a deserving agent of depravity gave The Sinner a calming sense of balance she didn't deserve.

“That's more vague than I prefer, but it helps nonetheless. Sign.” It was difficult to do while hovering spread eagle and parallel to the ground in a sex swing hanging from an elaborate ceiling track…but she managed.

The Caregiver snapped shut their plastic binder, dramatically. “You’ve agreed to complete a two month trial period. At the end you'll have one final chance to opt out without penalty, but…”

The Caregiver firmly gripped The Sinner by her small but sagging stomach pooch. Wheels squeeked and chains clattered as she was slowly pulled toward a medical cart holding a syringe, a catheter hose, and a funnel gag.

“...Now that you’ve so rashly signed the contract, permanent damage is guaranteed.”

A plainly attractive woman, The Sinner seemed to weigh less than 190 lbs. If asked, She would admit at least 50 of them were due to recent ongoing stress. The Caregiver could tell her life had been sedentary. There was no scaffolding on her small frame for her recent adipose to build off of. It hung sloppy and loose despite looking torn and stretched; another testament to her failing character.

The Caretaker leveled his gaze to meet his deserving victim. “If you change your mind in two months, you might be able to eke out a few extra decades of existence…but I can promise you now that for the rest of your short life—or just shortened life--you'll be some kind of broken. We start now, by the way.”

“It's what I deser—", The Sinner felt the sting in her butt at the beginning of the sentence, yet still attempted her wrote statement of contrition. The Caregiver’s felt it their job to make sure The Sinner willingly took the bite that ultimately block her veins or explode her heart, her gut if he was careless. Either way, she would definitely deserve her punishment while regretting her decision not to read the contract. It wasn't guaranteed, but that final look of regret was the icing on a good caretaker’s cake.