by West, Sam
Dick accepted the compliment gracefully. “You flatter me so. However, I did not ask you here to discuss my prick. Maybe the needs of my prick, but that is something else entirely. I have an idea for a party. A different sort of idea.”
Sebastian was intrigued. “Go on.”
Their parties were legendry, and a good part of the reason that he and Dick were so close. Hosted by Dick, himself, and, of course, Harlan, they usually involved prostitutes of both sexes and various ages. Invariably they descended into violent orgies that left even the most hardened whore trembling in horror, shame, and disgust.
Deep in Sebastian’s depraved soul, he craved another party. It had been months since the last one.
That same, gorgeous waitress appeared at the moment Dick was about to reply with two tumblers of whisky on a tray. She set the drinks down on the table, and as she did so, Sebastian stared at her arse straining against the black fabric of her skirt. What an arse. What a body. Nicely curved, just on the right side of plump and Sebastian’s cock twitched in approval. She pretended like she didn’t know he was checking her out, but there was no disguising the blush that stained her cheeks and the upper portion of her chest that could be glimpsed above the high neck of the fitted, white shirt.
“Of all the girls here, you gawp at the waitress?” Dick said when she had gone.
Sebastian shrugged. “She’s pretty.”
“Then she will come to our party! She will be your special guest.”
“She’s not exactly our usual party guest now, is she?”
“That, my dear boy, is entirely the point. That’s why this party will be like no other. More like a holiday, if you will. An endless party where the guests are not the usual fare. Where they are all our dreams come true. Where they are expendable.”
Sebastian didn’t follow. “Expendable?”
“Yes, my dear boy. I am bored of paying for what I need. Why should we not just take it? Take what we really want rather than just make do? And then do with them what we really want to do?”
Sebastian was silent for a moment, letting the magnitude of his words sink in. “Because we don’t want to go to jail, perhaps?”
“Did you go to prison after the untimely death of your parents?”
“No. But that was undoubtedly only because of you.”
“Exactly. I am the police. Oh, come my son, I know your urges are strong. Would you not like to exorcise them in a safe, controlled environment where anything goes? I believe it would be cathartic for all of us, especially my brother. His urges are getting the better of him, and if I don’t give him a safe place in which to vent, even I might experience difficulty in keeping him out of prison.”
Sebastian thoughtfully scratched his perfect, manly, square jaw. “So instead of pros, we’re talking ordinary people off the streets? As in kidnapping?”
“Where is the fun in corrupting something that is already corrupt? We need innocent flowers, plucked for our amusement, to do with whatever we will. Like that waitress over there whom you can’t stop staring at.”
It was true, Sebastian was quite taken with her and freely admitted that his gaze was repeatedly drawn in her direction. Looks wise, she reminded him of the whore he had just been with. Except there was nothing whorish about this girl. Which would make what he wanted to do to her all the sweeter.
“I have to admit I am intrigued by your suggestion. But I just can’t see how it would work. We’re not talking about the abduction of just one or two people now, are we?”
“Indeed not. I was thinking around ten.”
“How would we control so many people? Wouldn’t we need outside help to keep them in line? And where would we hold such a gathering?”
“I have a château in France. It stands alone in the Bordeaux countryside without so much as a village for many miles. It is invisible from the main road, not that the road could ever be called ‘main’ by any stretch of the imagination. It is entirely sealed off from civilisation with an impenetrable stone wall that runs the full perimeter, all eight miles of it. Not even the postman gets past the front gate. And even if he did, it is a two mile drive to the front door.”
“The guests could still run riot. Whatever weapons we may have could easily be turned on us. We would be outnumbered.”
“You are right, there are many variables to be considered.”
Sebastian smirked. “But nothing we can’t overcome, right?”
“Absolutely. If there’s one thing life’s taught me, money can buy you anything.”
The excited butterflies in Sebastian’s stomach fluttered all the harder. His head was already swimming with the possibilities.
“Shall we draw up a guest list now? You are right about that waitress, she is certainly at the top of my list. But what about Harlan? Shouldn’t we wait for him before we plan any further?”
“I don’t see the need,” the older man replied. “I think we should present it to him as fait accomplie. Besides, you know my brother’s tastes, they are broad, to say the least.”
The very least, Sebastian silently agreed.
Both Sebastian and Dick were evil sadists. Dick’s little brother Harlan was different. Yes, he was evil. Yes, he was a sexual sadist, (a sadist with no sexual preferences; if it was a hole, he’d fuck it.) But he was also insane. That is, insane in the manner of a wild animal; his actions were completely unpredictable and he was prone to violent tantrums. Only Dick, and occasionally Sebastian, could go some way to controlling his behaviour.
Sebastian could do little to suppress the gleeful smirk that tugged at the corner of his full mouth. “So let’s talk details.”
“I was also thinking that perhaps we could also invite our wives to the party.”
“Our wives? Are you serious? I thought you hated yours as much as I hated mine.”
Sebastian thought of his loser of a wife, and shuddered. He honestly didn’t know why he had married her. She was a retired model who had never quite made it to supermodel league, and he had made the mistake of marrying her for her tight body, pretty face and sexually submissive nature. If he divorced her now, the bitch would screw him over for every penny he was worth. He knew he would end up killing her one day, he just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
Then the penny dropped.
Well, maybe that time has just come.
A grin slowly spread across Richard’s puddingy face. “Yes, my dear boy, this going to be one hell of a party.”
3.
Molly Harris couldn’t stop thinking about that handsome guy she’d seen at work; the guy who’d been sat with the short, fat one. There was just something about him, something mesmerising. It had been two days since she’d last seen him, but the image of his face still burned bright in her mind.
I wonder if I’ll ever see him again?
She shook her head in disbelief. This was most unlike her. And anyway, he must be a pervert to frequent strip-clubs.
But he didn’t look like a pervert.
She had never seen a man like him. He was so attractive it hurt; handsome in the way of a Hollywood actor. There was a stillness about him, a brooding look of intensity that blazed behind his carefully composed, perfect features. That intensity was heightened by his relatively young age. She figured he couldn’t have been that much older than her, like, maybe mid-twenties. He exuded such maturity, from his expensive, tailored shirt, to his immaculately clipped, light brown hair, down to his gym honed body that was just on the right side of tastefully worked out. He was, without doubt, a man in control.
And those eyes. God, those eyes. Pale blue, like a winter’s sky and equally as cold.
Sighing heavily and shaking her head to dispel the image of him, she stepped out the front door, closing and locking it behind her.
As she walked away from the large terraced house she shared with five other students on the main road, her mind turned to more mundane matters. Like how much she hated the fact she had been forced to take the job at the strip-club to
pay her way through uni. It made her feel dirty, like a whore of something. Not that she was. Far from it.
It’s just a waitressing job, she reminded herself. It could be on the moon for all it matters, a waitress job is a waitress job.
Even so, she knew she should have taken the cashier position at Tesco, despite the money being a lot less.
I wonder if he’ll be there tonight?
She pulled the duffel coat more tightly around her body, as if the action would somehow squeeze the stupid thought out of her head along with the cold that seeped past her clothes into her bones.
She shivered in the cold, December night and quickened her pace.
Should of got a taxi to work.
But being a student, taxis were a luxury she simply couldn’t afford. She decided to treat herself to one after her shift with her tip money.
She was so lost in thoughts of the shift ahead that she didn’t notice the non-descript, black car that was curb-crawling her. It was hardly unusual, this was London after all, and the car didn’t register with her. There could be a hundred reasons for the car to creep along next to her; the driver could be looking for a convenient place to spit out the passenger, or was lost, or was perhaps waiting to pick up a friend…
Or Molly Harris was about to be abducted.
Before she even had a chance to react, the rear car door threw open and a tall, wide man dressed from head to toe in black blocked her path. The stranger grabbed her and spun her round, holding her tight in a head-lock. Her feet paddled air where seconds ago they had been firmly planted on the pavement, then she was launched face-first onto the backseat.
This happened in less time than it took her to draw breath to scream. The scream died before it erupted from her lips thanks to a hard blow to the back of her head. Then there was nothing but blackness.
END OF SAMPLE