“Lois!” It’s James’s voice that brings me back from my nightmare. “Breathe. Just breathe, sweetheart.” I smile at the use of his endearment. Is that the first time he’s called me sweetheart? I’m not sure, but I like it. “Are you okay?”
“Mmm.” I can’t summon up the energy to say ‘Sir.’ I think I’ve been holding my breath. My chest feels sore.
“Breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Deep breaths.” I do as I’m told, and everything slowly comes back to me. James is now unshackling me from the cross, and he cradles me in his arms when he’s done so. This is a good thing because my legs currently feel like jelly.
“Did we win this one?” I say sleepily, snuggling into his chest. It suddenly feels like someone has knocked all the stuffing out of me, and all I want to do is go to sleep.
“We won. Well done, Lois,” I blink at that. “Do you get to slam into the prick with your belt, now, Sir?”
I don’t realise I’ve said that last sentence aloud until my eyes connect with Giovanni’s. He’s now standing ramrod straight in shock, while he looks like he’s going to vomit. Oh, this should be good.
Chapter Fifteen - Lois
After a minute’s worth of shocked silence, Giovanni suddenly shuffles his feet and begins unfastening Valeria from the cross. We are both given a spot at the rear of the room. Valeria is left upright on her knees, but James places me prostrate on the floor with my arms reaching up alongside my head. I think he’s worried I might faint, and to be honest, I do feel quite woozy.
“Looks like you’ve got yourself in quite a spot, Giovanni,” James comments, rubbing his jaw. To torment the poor man, James then thinks aloud. “Hmm, do I want to fuck Valeria first, or do I want to thrash your ass?” I can tell he’s enjoying himself, by the way his lips quirk as he says it. Good for him. All I can think about is Valeria spread over the bed, while James thrusts into her. It’s this jealousy thing again. I’ve never been jealous of a man in my life and now it hits me? With the one man I’ll never be able to have? There’s got to be irony in that somewhere.
“What would you prefer I do first, Giovanni? I’ll leave it up to you.” This isn’t James being kind. He just wants to know which punishment frightens the Italian more. Watching someone fuck his precious girlfriend, or having a strip taken off his hide.
“Me. I’ll go first.” That answered that question. The man isn’t all bad.
“Okay.” James puts his palm out towards the bed and waits for Giovanni to begin moving. I figure this has to be the ultimate in humiliation for a Dom, but I guess that’s the whole point of this twisted place. All these men are trying to one up the other, and the price of failure is high.
Meanwhile, James unbuckles his belt, and the sound of the buckle being released echoes in my ears. I can see Giovanni wince at the noise, so I know he’s done it on purpose. Curling the end of the leather up in his fist, James then lets the buckle swing free. That’s just plain nasty. He’s letting him know he’s going to smash that shiny piece of metal into his ass. James obviously wants to get his own back in style. Dangling it in front of Giovanni’s face, so the man knows he means business, he bends down slowly to speak to him.
“Are you ready?”
Giovanni grunts. “Get on with it.” I smirk to myself. These alpha males are always so impatient.
James then does something unexpected. “Are we still allowed to trade here? I confess I haven’t read the rule book from cover to cover, but I’m willing to wave both your punishments if you can let me in on a little secret.”
“Depends on what you want to know,” Giovanni replies. His body is still tense. He knows he’s not out of the woods yet.
“A shipment of coke went missing in Naples about three months ago. A large one. You happen to know anything about that?”
Giovanni tries to get to his feet, but James pins his neck down with his hand. “Answer the question.”
“Are you NCA or FBI?” Giovanni spits. The guys here will gut you if they find out. You’re fucking crazy.”
“No, I don’t work for the good guys. I’m more in the line of organised crime, a lot like you, in fact. I work for Dumortier. Alain. Ever heard of him?” The room goes eerily quiet. Giovanni is wondering whether he can wriggle himself out of this mess without getting himself killed in the process.
Eventually, he says, “You’re one crazy motherfucker. If you do work for him, don’t expect to live long.”
James then puts his foot on Giovanni’s back and swings the buckle back and forth in front of his eyes. “We’ll discuss how expensive my life insurance policy is another time. Right now, I need to know whether you have something useful for me because if you don’t, I’m going to enjoy thrashing your ass, and I’m really going to enjoy fucking your wife.”
More silence. Valeria and I are both watching the proceedings with interest, and she’s not looking nearly as panicked at the thought of fucking James as I would be if the tables had been reversed. She would be, if she knew what I knew.
“Fine. You need to speak to ‘Il Boia,’ and I never told you that. If I find out my name’s been mentioned, I’ll slit your throat, and that’s a promise.”
“Duly noted. Is he here this weekend?”
“Yes. He’s the tall, dark, tattooed one with the blonde. Doesn’t say much. Kills people for fun. If I were you, I’d drop this, but then I don’t work for Dumortier.” Giovanni’s voice is filled with a little more respect now that he knows what James does. Being associated with madmen has its advantages, apparently.
“Excellent. We never had this conversation. You are free to go.” James then removes his foot and walks over to me.
“You okay, sweetheart?” He pulls me into his arms and thankfully some of his body heat steals into mine because for some reason I am freezing.
“Yes. Just tired, Sir,” I say sleepily. “It’s been a long day.”
He nods, picks me up in his arms, and begins walking. “Food and then bed,” he says quietly. “You’ll need your strength for tomorrow.”
James orders me a mushroom risotto, with a helping of tiramisu for dessert. While we’re waiting for them to arrive, he carefully bathes me. It still feels weird being taken care of like this, but I could get a taste for it. Thankfully, my libido is fast asleep right now, and the thought of sex is the furthest thing from my mind.
“How did you hold back?” James gives me a puzzled look. He’s wondering what the hell happened when I decided breathing was overrated.
“Tank.” I don’t need to say anymore. James knows what I mean.
“Don’t do that again. I don’t have a problem with taking a whipping. I do have a problem with you passing out. It dangerous. If you’re wearing a gag, or you somehow get smothered, no one will know.”
“I won’t do it again, Sir,” I say. It’s a lie. I’ll do it again if I have to.
“Promise me.” This man reads me so effortlessly it’s almost comical. At the moment, his expression is firm and unyielding. I don’t waste my breath trying to fight him on this.
“I promise, Sir.”
Towelling me off with a robe, he then sits me beside the desk and forks mouthfuls of the most delicious risotto I’ve ever had gently past my lips. This is then followed by creamy, coffee tiramisu. Even when I protest that I can’t eat another mouthful, he still doesn’t let up, until I shake my head in defeat.
“No more, please, Sir,” I beg. My stomach has swollen to the size of a beachball and it feels like it might burst.
James decides to take pity on me. “Fine. Hop on your rug, Lois. It’s bedtime.”
My face wrinkles up at the thought of sleeping on the floor and James laughs. “It’s only for two nights,” he whispers. “You’ve been through much worse.” He’s right, I have, but right now I want to be in bed beside him with his arms wrapped around me. It’s probably better this way, though.
Crawling towards my rug, I curl myself into a little ball and close my eyes. James then gets two wo
ollen blankets from the top of the wardrobe and places them over me. Giving me a soft kiss on the forehead, he then gets into bed himself, turning out all the lights, one by one. I’m asleep before the last lamp is extinguished.
The next morning dawns gloriously bright and the sun’s rays passing through the crack in the curtains is almost blinding. My mood is the exact opposite. I am grouchy, grumpy, and nervous. The floor was hard, and though I wasn’t cold, I wasn’t exactly comfortable. If you’re the kind of masochist who enjoys camping, then sure, give it a go, but I’m not about to recommend it.
“Morning, Lois.” James steps out of the bathroom looking reasonably cheerful, considering. “Did you sleep well?” He’s trying not to smile, but I can see straight through him. How can he find this situation amusing?
“Go fuck yourself, Sir.” I don’t care if I get punished. Like I said, I’m not feeling myself today. Crawling past him, to use the bathroom, with limbs stiffer than a set of golf clubs, I slam the door on his heels and hear laughter. I do my best to block it out.
When I emerge half an hour later, I am faced with a bowl of scrambled eggs on the floor. I look up at James warily.
“Come on, you didn’t think you’d get away with that little outburst, did you, Lois? Breakfast has been served. You’re not allowed to use your hands, and you if take more than five minutes, I’ll give you a paddling as well.” He gives me a look. “No, you will not enjoy it. All of your pleasure today will have to be earned, and you’ve not got off to a good start.”
James comes to stand in front of me to watch my humiliation first-hand, and I’m faced with a pair of legs in blue jeans, shoulder-width apart. I know, without looking up, that his arms will be crossed, and a disapproving look will be marring his beautiful face. Damn it. I knew I’d regret mouthing off.
Sighing, I dip my head towards the bowl, which is when James bends over me, fastening my hair up on the top of my head. It’s a kindness. If he hadn’t, I’d have needed to wash it again. Dipping my nose into the bowl, I scoop up the lukewarm morsels of egg, and try not to wince as everything sticks to my face. I’m guessing this is part punishment, part preparation for the ‘Pet Play’ item I saw on the itinerary. It doesn’t take me more than two mouthfuls to discern I am not going to be a fan of this shit.
“You’ve got one-minute left, Lois. Don’t make me paddle that ass.” The eggs finally go down just in the nick of time. When I’m finished, I want to hang my head in shame, but James won’t let me. Pulling my face, up he looks at me as he slowly brushes the crumbs away.
“Don’t let the humiliation get to you, Lois. Ever fucker around these parts will want a piece of you. Don’t let them see it affects you. Well, unless it hurts, and then you can use your tears. Okay?”
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper. I am not cut out for this.
“Okay, go back, wash up and clean your teeth. After that, we need to go down to the lounge, and this time, you need to be naked.” Oh God, what now? I can’t remember the next item on the itinerary, and quite honestly, I don’t want to know. We’ve got forty-eight hours to sort this mess out before Adie becomes overcooked popcorn, and I don’t want to think about that. If we don’t make it in time, I will never forgive myself.
“We’ll get back, Lois. We have to.” As per normal, James knows exactly what I’m thinking. He seems to be able to compartmentalise far better than me. Then again, he’s had a lot more experience at dealing with Alain than I have. The thought makes me shudder.
My day is spent in the lounge. I am naked and gagged with a bright orange wiffle ball gag. These are slightly easier to breathe through due to the holes that are punched through them. The only other accessories adorning my body are my collar and a pair of nipple clamps. They have not been set tightly, thank God, but my poor teats protest in perfect little erect peaks, which shoot sparks of desire down my spine at regular intervals.
Today’s game is ‘Human Furniture.’ At the moment, I am serving as a coffee table. There is a sheet of (hopefully) unbreakable glass strapped to my back and it’s fucking cold. Some asshole has his feet propped up on me, and he’s wearing sturdy leather derby shoes. The heels dig into me, but I am not allowed to utter a sound. Failure to keep quiet, means a public spanking or whipping, and I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. So far this morning, I’ve had to hold a cup of coffee steady, which was thankfully lukewarm, and a plate of biscotti. I’ve quickly found that shallow breathing is the name of the game.
Coffee tables aren’t the only items of furniture in this room. One submissive is arched over the floor, with her legs spread wide against the wall. She is being used as a chair. Her poor thighs must be burning by now. Another is on her knees with her backside in the air, while her face presses into the floor. A flowerpot is resting on her butt. I can also see a sub serving as a lampshade, and three more are candle holders. The dripping hot wax that is falling down their bodies has me shuddering. Two slaves have even been made into bookshelves, lying one on top of the other. Ow. I think I’ve got off rather lightly until my half an hour is up and we’re all made to switch.
The torture goes on all day. I am aroused to the point of a molten meltdown by the amount of stray hands that finger my clit and pussy. My nipples are yanked at regular intervals, and my ass is coloured a fuchsia shade of pink with all the hands that have slammed into it. This blends perfectly with the colour upon my cheeks, which are now burning with embarrassment. So far, three submissives have shrieked out in pain, and all three were then shackled to the dining room table, one by one, where the dominants all lined up to take a swing at them with their whips, crops, and canes. All of them came away black and blue, sobbing their hearts out. No, thank you. I’ll suffer in silence. Even if it kills me.
Keeping my lips tightly clamped together isn’t the easiest at the moment because I’m now a candle holder, and two thick white tallows have been arranged just above my breasts. They were lit a minute or two ago, and since then I’ve been patiently waiting for the first drop of wax to fall. I know it’s coming, and the anticipation is killing me. When both candles begin spluttering at once, I will be gritting my teeth – and that’s the least of my worries. I’m standing upright with my legs splayed wide apart, and a dominant is fingering me, while trying to pull a clamp from my nipple. When he finally achieves his goal, I want to howl, but I somehow manage to work through the pain. I’ve been through worse, and this will dissipate in a minute. I just need to give it time. He doesn’t take his failure lightly though and goes for the other nipple. Another yank, and I’m going crazy.
“Go on, let it loose,” he whispers, picking up my chin so he can see my face. I make sure my eyes are dipped at all times, though. I’m not supposed to make any kind of eye contact. Two drops of wax then land on the soft skin of my breasts and I suck in air. The man in front of me regards me carefully. “You like pain, don’t you?” I’m not going to give him an answer to that question. I could nod or shake my head if so inclined, but he’s not my dominant so I don’t have to obey him unless I’m paired with him or ordered to. The last thing I want to do is encourage him.
When he receives no response from me, he goes for my clit, pinching it tightly between his thumb and fingernail. A scream bubbles up in my throat, but I refuse to let it out. More wax cascades down my chest and I can see the delight in his eyes as my face creases with agony. “You’re a determined little thing, aren’t you? I think James is very lucky to have you. Maybe I’ll get to play with you later, Lois. I think we’ll work very well together.” He then brushes past me, the rough material of his suit jacket setting my nipples on fire, before he moves on to the next exhibit. It takes me a moment to realise that this man is tall and dark. I didn’t notice any tattoos, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have any. I need to keep an eye out for his submissive. If he’s the one we want, I may have just done James a favour.
When the morning’s activities are over, it’s well past lunchtime and James leads me back to the room for some aftercare
and food. While the hot wax on my chest has left marks, they’re not serious, and should disappear in a day or two. My ass, on the other hand, could do with a generous helping of Aloe Vera to cool the burn.
“You did amazingly well out there,” James comments. I wouldn’t say he was shocked, but there is definitely a note of surprise in his voice. I’d probably have a reply for that comment, but my jaw is too painful to move after having been pried open for the last three hours.
“Sore?” James has his crystal ball out and it’s still in good working order.
I nod my head. Everything feels sore. Ass, pussy, nipples, and mouth especially so.
James ruffles my hair. “We’ll get you loosened up in a jiffy. Maybe you’d like a nap before we tackle food?”
“Mmm.” It’s the best I can do. My thighs are still shaking from all the stress positions they’ve been forced into, my arms are strained and wooden, and my head feels too heavy for my neck. It’s a good job I’m reasonably fit. I was one of only three girls left at the end. All the rest had either collapsed or screamed. This isn’t because I’m any better than they are. It’s because I’m stubborn. That should be my middle name. Lois Stubborn-As-Fuck Reeves. It has a certain ring to it.
James is very diligent as he takes care of me. We’ve become close since we started this assignment, both aware of the stakes should we fail. While he should be mad at me, I don’t think either of us have the energy for that at the moment.
“How does that feel?” He’s just given me a quick shower, before lying me face down on the bed. He’s now covering my body in lavender massage oil while his hands slowly begin to loosen all the knots from my body.
Embers: A Dark Romance Love Triangle (A Special Agent Novel Book 5) Page 15