“She can’t cope with this lifestyle, but you were made for it, isn’t that right, Lois?” I’m not sure I agree with him on that point, but I have to confess that now I’ve been introduced to the world of kinky sex, I’m not going back. I wouldn’t mind turning the pain aspects down a little, though.
“Julian won her in a bet, by the way. She was a little darling from a very wealthy family before he got his hands on her. After a week, he had her buck naked and obeying his every whim. It was a message to her father who was trying to take over his territory. He made him watch while she got on her knees and sucked his cock, right in front of him. He then pointed a gun at her head and told him that if there was any more trouble, his daughter would be buried at the foot of his garden. Julian’s nice like that.” Yes, and you’re even nicer, I bet. I have a sneaking suspicion that Ranieri isn’t who he appears to be. It’s nothing concrete yet, just a gut feeling, but I don’t like it. James had better be careful around this fucker, else we’ll be going home in body bags.
“Chiara was born into this lifestyle. Her mother was a slave, and she’s a slave. She knows her place. That’s why I bought her.” I have no idea what that means, but it can’t be anything good. It sounds a little like what Alain is doing – trafficking women. My stomach churns at the thought. Is Chiara being held captive against her will? With men like these, anything is possible.
Ranieri then sucks on the tip of his thumb, as if considering something. Pulling it out of his mouth with a pop, he then says, “I wonder if Alain would sell you to me? I wonder how much he’d want for you?” The cane continues to slam into me as he ponders that thought, and I can’t help a shudder. Alain wouldn’t fucking dare, and if he did, I’d slit Ranieri’s throat so fast he wouldn’t see it coming.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking, Lois,” he drawls. “I can see it in your eyes. They tell me you’d kill me, but you wouldn’t. My subs know their place. I make sure of it.” The cane then attacks the front of my thighs with fury, but thankfully they’re more heavily muscled than the rear, so that absorbs some of the blow. This jerk-off should be glad I’m tied up. If I wasn’t, I’d be feeding him his teeth one by one, before cutting the contents of his stomach loose. I reserve quick deaths for people I like, or at least ones who haven’t pissed me off.
Another three or four subs fall to the wayside, and I catch James’s gaze frequently travelling in our direction. I make sure I don’t get caught looking at him. Ranieri is dangerous enough as it is, and I have the feeling I haven’t seen half of what that man is capable of, yet.
At the moment, I’m coping with Ranieri’s own personal brand of torture, but I won’t be for much longer. My calves are beginning to cramp from having maintained the same position for so long, and my toes feel pinched, as if I’ve spent a whole evening in ridiculously high stilettos. My elbows are sagging around my neck and my tits, ass and thighs burn like someone has coated them in acid. While Ranieri isn’t using the cane quite as brutally as Adie did, I will be severely bruised tomorrow, and I really don’t need any souvenirs from this place.
When Ranieri finally throws down the cane, more than a little frustrated with me, he unbuckles my gag and we take five minutes time out. I am absurdly grateful. Perhaps he’s not quite as bad as I think he is.
“Half the room is down, Lois. You’ve probably got another fifteen girls to go before we win. Can you last that long?” He brings a bottle of water with a straw up to my lips and I sip it greedily. When he takes it away, I cough, clear my throat, and then crack my jaw. I detest ball gags. The thing has stretched my jaw so damn tight it will hurt to talk for the next hour at least.
“Let’s hope so, Sir. Else I’ll be going back to my boss empty handed, won’t I?” Taking a couple of deep breaths, I enjoy the sensation of breathing through my mouth for a change.
“Dumortier doesn’t take failure well, I hear.” That’s the understatement of the century. Ranieri then runs his fingernails over the top of my buttocks and I hiss.
“Talk to me, Lois.” I’d rather not, but Ranieri doesn’t have an implement of torture in his hands while we’re chatting, so perhaps I should drag this conversation out.
“I don’t do failure, so that shouldn’t be a problem, Sir,” I say tightly. I then tell myself that I have to stay absolutely still, even though those fingernails feel like they’re attacking me with lightning bolts. Hasn’t the man heard of nail clippers? Jesus.
“Oh, you shouldn’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Ranieri says. “Failure makes a person smarter and stronger.” I frown, but he then voices what I’m thinking. “If they live to tell the tale, of course.” Exactly.
“Do you have nine lives, Lois?” The fingernails move down to my thighs, and I let out a muffled sob.
“If I have, I’ve used most of them up by now, Sir,” I say testily. I’m not kidding, either.
“Pity. I have a feeling you’re right, though. I don’t think you’re going to get out of this mess with your skin intact.”
“Wha…” I want to ask him what he means by that, but the gag is already being pressed back into my lips, and my jaw stretches painfully around it. This man knows more than James thinks. I’m beginning to have a really bad feeling about today. Shaking my head rapidly back and forth, I can do nothing as his fingers clamp around my chin.
“Sshh. It’s nearly over. You just have to stand there and endure. I know you can, Lois.” I hear the words, but they fade into static. I’m already retreating inside myself, hoping that I can distance myself from this man. The trouble is, Ranieri can see what I’m doing, too. “Uh, uh, uh. I don’t think so, Lois.” He shakes his head. “There was a reason I made sure James didn’t let you climax.”
He then puts his hand between my legs and rubs my clit. The same clit that has been tortured by James for hours on end with no relief. It immediately brings me back to life, and I squeal with misery.
“Ahh, that’s what I’m looking for, Lois. Look at me. Look. At. Me.” He captures my clit in his thumb and forefinger, and squeezes it brutally as he holds up the next item in his torture arsenal. It’s a tawse. It’s a wicked-looking thing that looks like a paddle but is as flexible as a belt. It has two prongs, a vicious snap, and is on par with the cane. I can’t cope with this anymore. James knows it, too, because I can feel him looking at us. There’s nothing he can do to help me, though, and I know it. I’m pretty sure the whole situation amuses Ranieri no end. He holds all the power for the moment, and he’s taking advantage of the fact. This guy could probably teach Adie a thing or two.
“It’s that look of torment, that turns me on, Lois. It’s a mixture of horror, disbelief, and utter subjugation. That look tells me I’m crushing your soul. A soul is a delicate thing, you know. It doesn’t take much to obliterate it, and once it’s gone – it’s gone forever. Once you’re broken, you’re mine. James knows. You should ask him. He’s broken enough in his time.” Ranieri looks over at James who is currently tormenting Chiara with a flogger. He’s not as heavy-handed as Ranieri, and judging by the expression on her face, Chiara seems to be enjoying herself. She can handle pain, probably more than me. I suspect we’ll be the last two standing, and that’s when things are going to get a bit tense. I don’t have her experience and I’m pretty sure Ranieri knows it. Does he want to make an example of me? Does he want to expose us for the imposters we are? There’s a good chance we’ll leave this place with nothing, if that’s the case. I hope to hell James has a plan ‘B.’ I have a feeling we’re going to need it.
“Are you ready for round two, Lois?” Ranieri purrs, getting up close and personal in my face.
I’m not ready for anything, and he knows it.
Chapter Twenty-One – James
I can’t concentrate worth a damn. The clock is ticking down, and all I can think about is the fact that I’m placing all my faith in one man, and there’s a good chance that may not play out how I hope. If it doesn’t, I don’t know what I’m going to do. P
erhaps me and Lois will have to split up and start threatening to kill people until someone talks. That’s a great plan, that. It’s almost guaranteed to get us peppered with holes until our bodies are almost fucking transparent. Think again, Leveritt.
The trouble is, I don’t have any other ideas. We have no leads bar the one we’re chasing down, and this place has bad guys pouring out of the woodwork from every angle like termites. Secrets and lies are the way things are done around here. The women might look innocent enough, but most of these girls know how to aim and fire a gun. They might not be trained assassin’s like Lois, but that doesn’t mean they don’t know how to kill. There is no one we can trust and everyone is dangerous. If we’re not careful, we’ll be dead in no time.
My head swivels around slowly so I can watch Lois. She is looking pale and drawn. I’m keeping an eye on her, as much as I can, while I gauge how much longer this is likely to take. She’s doing well, so far. Although Ranieri has put her through her paces, he’s not been brutal – yet. She seems to have an innate sense of balance, which is lacking in most of the other subs. Ranieri hasn’t made her stumble too many times, and she makes standing on her tiptoes look effortless, although I know it won’t be. Perhaps she was a ballerina in a previous life? I nearly snort out loud. I find the thought of Lois doing anything that is slightly girly highly entertaining. She’s got more balls than most of the blokes I know.
Hang in there, Lois. This competition doesn’t have more than twenty minutes left before all players are down. Everyone is struggling now. While Ranieri is giving her a hard time, I don’t think he’s dished out more than she can handle. Let’s hope it stays that way.
In comparison, I’m taking it easy on Chiara. I don’t have to look at her to land a few swats here and there, which allows me to focus on what’s going on around me. If I need to step up my game later, I will, but I don’t want Ranieri to know what I’m capable of, yet. If he does, he’ll put all of his energy into attacking Lois, just for the hell of it. From where he’s standing, this game is a win/win. If he doesn’t come first, Chiara will, and this will bounce them up the leader board to just below us. As we’re shooting off as soon as he’s finished with us, provided he makes a decent attempt at the last few games, he’ll win hands down. He’s welcome to the victory. I can live without the fame and stardom.
When the tawse comes out, and Ranieri begins swinging it about wildly, I know Lois is living on borrowed time. I remain calm, though. There are only five subs left standing, and out of those five, three are going down shortly judging by their trembling limbs. We are nearly finished, thank God.
Even though Lois is stumbling about a bit under the sharp slices of the tawse, she rights herself almost as soon as she falls, and she’s making nowhere near as much noise as most of the other women. Atta girl, Lois. You’ve not got long to go.
When Ranieri catches me looking at him, his face is smug. He thinks Chiara is going to win. He’s figured out that they’ll go nearly to the top of the board, however this plays out. Perhaps that’s what he’s been hoping for all along. Maybe he doesn’t intend to tell me a thing. If you get caught snitching in his position, it’s game over. Mind you, the guy appears to be at the top of the food chain, so perhaps he can get away with it. Damned if I know. Most of the guys Alain has briefed me on aren’t even here, and the ones that are have been unhelpful. If Alain has had contact with them in the past, that friendship has long since gone. They’ve shut me out without a moment’s thought. The connections I’ve been given are old and worthless. It’s yet another thing that makes me suspicious.
When the last three girls fall, and it’s just Ranieri and me left in the room, I feel my muscles lock. Lois is not in a good way. She’s falling about all over the place as if she’s had a really good Saturday night out, and the only thing she can be drunk on is pain. My girl is hurting badly. If we want to win, I’ve got to put Chiara on the floor quickly. The only reason Lois is still in the competition is because she can withstand the torment a lot longer than the others, but she’ll be black and blue by the time I get her back to Lavande. Since I know that Alain plans on bedding her, I need to figure something out with Adie. Maybe he can stall him for us. Just a day or two while we figure out how to get the hell out of there. I have a plan in mind, I just need time to execute it.
“Ready for the finale, Leveritt?” Ranieri’s voice booms across the room and he smiles at me as he picks up a bullwhip. Fucking bastard. After I get my information, I’m going to knock the motherfucker’s teeth out. It’s the least I can do.
Picking up a bullwhip of my own, I note that mine is thicker and longer. I’m also one hundred percent certain I can wield the thing better than the smug asshole across from me. I can make a mess of his sub in less than a minute and have her screaming for mercy. Good thing, too, because the panicked look that Lois is giving me says she’s got seconds left in her, and not much more.
“Hold on, we’re nearly finished,” I mouth, when Ranieri turns his back to me. Lois’s eyes flare, telling me we’d better be. I can see her legs trembling with the effort it takes to stand and her face is locked in a rictus of agony. She’s bottling it up, but it’s beginning to overflow. It’s crunch time.
I let Ranieri take the first strike, to assess what I’m dealing with. While I don’t expect him to be an amateur, I need to know that he isn’t a pro, either. Whatever he’s dishing out, I need to dish out twice as fast in order to ensure that Lois wins. I hope to hell I’m up to the task.
The man wastes no time as he lets the whip fly. His aim is accurate, the thong connects sharply with Lois’s ass, and it sends her reeling – just as it’s supposed to. He’s not practised in the art, though. It takes him time to recover and line up his next shot. I, on the other hand, can swing one out after another. That’s how I’ll win this, and I’m not about to waste any more time. Laying into Chiara with a force that’s unholy, I crack the whip over and over, letting it lick at her ass, thighs, and breasts. My wrists move at the speed of light as I send her flying in one direction before spinning her in the other. She doesn’t stand a fucking chance. She loses her balance almost immediately, and I make sure she doesn’t regain it. Even if the woman does like pain, she won’t like much of this – I guarantee it. Sure enough, it doesn’t take long before I hear the word ‘Red’ uttered. They have a standard safe word system here and use the traffic light system. If you’re gagged, you click your fingers or stamp your feet instead.
“Red, red, red.” Never has a sweeter word been uttered. The tightness in my chest evaporates as I realise that this is over. Chiara has taken maybe fifteen hits, whereas Lois has only received five or six. At least she’ll be able to move. I feel horribly cruel for the agony I’ve just inflicted on Ranieri’s sub, but he was the one who wanted to play this game, not me. I just need my information so I can get the hell out of here.
“And I thought I was the sadist.” Ranieri’s mouth is hanging open as he assesses the damage I’ve done. Chiara is kneeling on the floor, sobbing her heart out, and I’m bracing myself for a fist somewhere unpleasant. I’ll take it if I have to, but I’d rather avoid it. I will not look great going through customs with a shiner.
Ranieri doesn’t do what I expect, though. Walking over to Chiara he squats down and cups her face in his hands. He kisses her like he’s drowning in her sorrow, and his hands go between her legs. The man is completely captivated by her suffering. In a matter of minutes neither Lois nor I know where to look. It’s clear he’s getting off on her torment, so we turn our backs to them and give them some privacy.
“Are you okay?” I ask. It’s a stupid question. I already know she’s not.
Lois is shaking all over, and much of her body is covered in thin red lines or bright pink patches. I feel like a complete bastard for putting her through all this shit, and I can almost feel her pain as if it were my own. Being in love with someone sucks. It grows upon you gradually, then attacks you like a disease, and before you know what’s hap
pening you’re left out at sea without a boat in sight. You end up feeling far too much, too fast, and before long, it cripples you with emotion. I don’t like being in love. In my line of business, it makes you weak, and I’ve learnt from experience that falling for someone is dangerous. It has repercussions that will stay with you for the rest of your life, ones that eat you alive from the inside out, ones that you might never recover from. I desperately want to go back to the emotionless void that I was before Lois entered my life, but there is no going back. We can only move forward.
Lois still hasn’t answered me, so I repeat my question, a little louder this time. “Are you okay?”
“Define okay.” Lois doesn’t look at me as she says it, which tells me everything I need to know. The woman is at the end of her tether, and I can’t say I blame her. No one should have to go through what she’s been through these past few weeks. Beginning the delicate task of removing all the chains, clamps and hooks, I get her down from the rig as gently as I can and cradle her in my arms as tears begin to fall from her eyes. This isn’t weakness. It’s intense pain, and she hasn’t got the energy to fight it.
“Cry it out, sweetheart. You’ve earned the privilege.” I sit down and put her between my legs. I’m careful not to touch her back, ass, or thighs, but I do put my arms around her neck and kiss her head. It’s not much as far as comfort goes, but it’s all I can offer her right now. “I can still get you out of here,” I whisper in her ear. “One phone call and I can get you across the other side of the world with a new passport. No one will ever know. You can go and find Tarzan and live happily ever after in the jungle somewhere.” Lois snorts at that and I let out a silent sigh of relief. At least she hasn’t lost her sense of humour.
“Tarzan isn’t going to be a very exciting prospect after I’ve been with you, James. Besides, I can’t leave Adie to die in that hell hole any more than you can. My conscience can take a fair bit of shit, but it won’t take that on top of everything else.” Her voice is raspy and rough, mostly because she’s been screaming so much this weekend, but it’s also sexy as fuck.
Embers: A Dark Romance Love Triangle (A Special Agent Novel Book 5) Page 21