No. She would take her own revenge. Ellis Fucking Hughes would pay. And he would pay her directly for all that she had suffered because of him.
Her hands no longer shaking, Mia walked through the room, stopping just a few feet from her tormentor. She assumed a steady stance and cocked the gun, aiming it directly at Ellis’ head.
“Open your eyes, you son of a bitch,” she said in a loud voice, pleased to note there was no waver in her tone. She half expected Ellis to continue to snore, lost in his whiskey-sodden dreams. But the sound of her voice seemed to penetrate his stupor, and his eyes slowly opened. He stared at her, though he didn’t seem to be focusing properly. He started to lift his hand in her direction.
“Make one move,” Mia said more forcefully than she’d ever said anything in her life, “and I’ll blow your fucking brains out.”
~*~
Ellis closed his eyes as he waited for his head to clear. He must have had more to drink than he’d thought. He’d been startled out of a rather pleasant dream involving several naked women servicing him at once, by the sound of a woman shouting at him.
As he came more fully awake, his brain processed the words that had ripped him from his dream. His eyes flew open and he stared in disbelief at the shocking sight before him.
M was standing near the bed like some kind of naked vigilante, waving a gun in his direction, her usually submissive countenance twisted unattractively into what could only be called a snarl. The image didn’t compute in his brain.
“What the fuck?” Ellis spat, pulling himself fully upright. Any vestige of alcohol still lingering in his bloodstream burned away as he stared at the dark round mouth of what he now recognized as his gun.
“That’s my gun, you little bitch!”
“It’s my gun now, cocksucker.”
Ellis didn’t recognize the voice issuing from his slave girl. Where was the submissive who worshipped him? What the hell was going on? He forced his gaze from the gun to M’s face. Her eyes were wild and she was breathing hard through flared nostrils. There was a sheen of sweat on her skin, though the room was cool. She was, he realized with a small measure of satisfaction, terrified. As well she should be. Because when he was done with her, she’d wish she’d never been born.
“M,” Ellis said sternly. “Put that thing down. You don’t know how to shoot a gun. You’re going to hurt yourself.” She didn’t move. “I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but it needs to stop. Now.” He swung his feet over the side of the bed. M took a step back.
Good. She wouldn’t shoot him. She wouldn’t dare. He would put an end to this nonsense once and for all. How the hell had she gotten hold of his gun, for fuck’s sake? He must have passed out from too much booze, and forgotten to lock her into her cage. The ungrateful little cunt had seized the opportunity to go rummaging through his things.
She was going to pay, big time. He wouldn’t even bother filling the bathtub. He’d just drag her to the toilet and shove her face right into the bowl. He would dunk her again and again, until all the fight had gone out of her. Then he’d beat her bloody. He’d drag out the punishment, giving her time between sessions to ponder her mistake in daring to defy her Master. Then he would put her in the punishment cage with no food or water until she begged for forgiveness.
He stood, clenching his hands into fists as he took a step toward the willful, disobedient cunt.
“Don’t move!” she shouted, and he noted with satisfaction that her voice and her hands were now shaking. “I said not to move, asshole. I know how to use this thing.”
Ellis shook his head slowly, keeping the rage out of his voice. He would play along for now. He held up a placating hand, palm forward. “M, have you forgotten who you belong to?” Her eyes flickered, but she didn’t answer. “Let’s say it together. Come on, you know the words.” He spoke in a low soothing tone. It was like gentling a skittish mare. He just had to be careful. There was no way she had shaken off months of intensive training, just like that.
He took another step toward her, arms open as he began the mantra, confident she would take over as she had a thousand times before. “I belong to you, Sir. You are the Master—”
The sudden explosion of gunfire nearly deafened him. “What the fuck!” he roared, falling back on the bed in his shock.
“Damn it, Ellis! You move again and I’ll shoot you.”
How dare she address him by his first name! He could hear the terror in her voice. She didn’t even know how to use a fucking gun. She was going to kill someone if she wasn’t careful. It sure as hell wasn’t going to be him. This had gone far enough. It was time to put a stop, once and for all, to M’s audacity. And then she would pay. And pay, and pay some more.
Ellis stood again, the scenario already unfolding in his head. Before she had a chance to react, he’d get his hand on her wrist. He could almost hear the snap of bone as he closed his fingers hard around it. He’d wrest the gun away, get her in a choke hold and shove the muzzle of the thing into her goddamn mouth. He wouldn’t shoot her. Death was too good for her now. No, he would make her suffer, dragging it out over days, weeks, even months, until nothing was left but her body—her mind wiped free of any thought but serving him. She would never defy him again.
Another deafening explosion tore through the air and all at once Ellis felt as if someone had punched him hard in his right deltoid. A second later came a deep, burning sensation. Instinctively he grabbed his arm, stunned to see bright red blood oozing between his fingers.
Shock and rage surged through him. “You fucking cunt! You fucking shot me!”
“I told you I know how to shoot, asshole. Next time I’ll kill you.”
Where had M gone? Who was this woman who had taken over his passive, obedient sex slave? Ellis tore his eyes from the flesh wound to stare at the naked, trembling maniac who still gripped the gun tight in her hands, its muzzle aimed at his heart. For the first time he realized the crazy bitch might actually kill him.
“Okay, okay,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “What is it you want, M? If you want me to bag the idea of a sister slave, I get it. It’ll just be me and you.” He tried to laugh. “I didn’t know you were so possessive. You must really love me, huh?” She didn’t answer. He continued, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. Oh god, he would fucking kill her for this. “You don’t even have to sleep in the cage anymore. How about that? I’ll hold you in my arms all night. We’ll be lovers, just like you’ve always wanted. Okay, M?” He took his hand away from his bloodied shoulder and held it out to her, trying to smile his movie star smile, the one that always made women open their legs for him.
M didn’t smile back.
She waved the gun toward his groin. “Take off your shorts.”
“What?” Ellis was confused. This wasn’t going right.
“You deaf? Take off your damn shorts. Now.”
Ellis saw her trigger finger tighten. What, she wanted to worship his cock? Now? Did she really think he could get it up with a gun in his face? The chick was fucking looney tunes. But she had a gun and, apparently, wasn’t afraid to use it.
Ellis started to reach into his shorts pocket to remove his phone, but M snapped, “Leave it where it is. Take off the shorts before I blow your dick off.”
Ellis’ head was pounding. In his fury, he felt he could break that gun in half, if he could just get hold of it. M was staring at him with maniacal fixity. She was no longer trembling. There was no love in those blue eyes of hers. There was death.
Using his good hand, Ellis dragged his shorts down his legs and kicked them away. He would pretend to go along. He would bide his time, and then make his move. She might have won this battle, but Ellis Langston Hughes had never lost a war. He wasn’t about to start now.
~*~
Mia sank into the desk chair. She felt as if she’d just completed a triathlon. Her muscles were like rubber and her insides were churning. She should be elated with her victory, but she was st
ill too stunned to feel any joy.
Ellis was safely locked inside the punishment cage in the closet. Mia couldn’t get him in there fast enough. She’d been shaking with terror as she forced him at gunpoint out of his bedroom and into hers. She directed him into the closet, making him get on his hands and knees to crawl into the cage. What a relief it had been to close the heavy padlock on the cage door and get herself away from him.
Her terror hadn’t derived from fear, at least it was not fear for her own life, not anymore. The fear had come with the stark realization that she wanted to kill him. She’d nearly done it when he’d ignored her warnings to keep back, turning the gun aside at the last second and only allowing the bullet to graze his arm to show she meant business.
In fact she had ached to murder him then and there. Her fingers had longed to squeeze the trigger of that gun and release a bullet from the chamber, sending it directly into his heart. She could envision the moment of impact, when the bullet ripped through his chest, exploding in a red and white flower of blood and bone.
Mia blew out a breath and wiped her eyes. She opened the laptop and tapped a key to wake it up. As she waited, she tightened the drawstring of the cotton lounge pants she’d pulled from Ellis’ bureau, along with a heavy cotton T-shirt. It felt good to be clothed, while the bastard lay naked in his cage.
She glanced at the computer’s clock. It was a little after midnight in New York, which she estimated put it sometime in the early afternoon on the prince’s island. “Please let him have read the email,” she whispered.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Dearest Mia,
I will come by private jet immediately. I assume from your ability to email that you are not physically restrained. Are you able to call the police? You should get out at once. Email me with your new location. I will arrange for a car. Assuming all goes as planned, please expect my arrival in approximately 36 hours.
Kamau
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
I will be here waiting. I’m not going to leave. I managed to get Ellis’ gun, and he is presently in the cage he used when I was being punished. I don’t want police. I don’t want the humiliation and the exposure. I just want to get away. And I want to stop him from ever doing this again. I have a plan. I’ll share it when I see you. Thank you again, and again, and again.
With love and gratitude,
Mia
Mia logged out and closed the browser. She opened Gmail again, which defaulted to Ellis’ account, his log in information still filled in. Though in her prior life Mia never would have dreamed of going into someone else’s email, she now didn’t hesitate to hit the enter key.
There were dozens of emails, all of them from women with names like Pain Slut and Sex Kitten. Obviously this wasn’t Ellis’ business or personal account, but, as his own user ID implied, it was where he had been prowling for the next victim.
Mia eyed the emails until she found one from Sub Girl. She opened the latest email, which was a gushing missive about how much Alicia couldn’t wait to meet her Master in the flesh and begin their new life of bliss together. There was no mention of any “sister slave” in the arrangement. No doubt Ellis had forgotten to mention it.
Apparently Ellis had already booked a one-way first class ticket for her from Jackson Hole, Wyoming. She was scheduled to arrive at LaGuardia the following Sunday, blithely eager and ready to step into the snare of a madman.
“No,” Mia said aloud. “You will not do this to someone else, Ellis Fucking Hughes.” She put her fingers on the keyboard and hit the compose button. “I know you’re going to be disappointed, SubGirl123456, but you’ll thank me later, I promise.”
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Dear Alicia,
You can keep the plane ticket. Visit Manhattan. Unfortunately, you won’t be coming to stay with me. Someone tipped off the police, and they rudely searched my house, spending way too much time in the basement, where they uncovered the mutilated corpses of a dozen stupid, unsuspecting women I’ve met online and convinced to come to my home so I could hold them prisoner and torture them to death. I was hoping you’d be lucky thirteen. Maybe we can hook up when I get out of prison.
Mia hit send, hoping that email would shake the girl to her senses. She played around on the laptop a while longer, finding what looked like Ellis’ work email, but she couldn’t access that one. She did find a whole cache of pornographic pictures and video files, which contained thousands of images of women being brutally tortured, some of it sexual, most of it just horrifying. She left the files open, pushed back from his desk and headed into the kitchen.
She made a pot of coffee and toasted some bread. She sat at the kitchen table and drank hot coffee sweetened with sugar and real cream, and ate toast slathered with butter and apricot jam. Each bite tasted better than the last. She hadn’t had to endure being shocked or whipped to earn her meal, and she could eat to her heart’s content.
Leaving the dishes on the table, she poured herself another cup of coffee and walked into the living room. As she stared around the sumptuously furnished room, Mia wondered if Ellis had friends. There had been untold hours during her captivity when he’d left her gagged and bound. Had he entertained friends and associates during that time? Had they sat in these chairs sipping expensive wine and talking about business and family, with no idea about the torture chamber just up the stairs, or the naked, half-starved girl locked in a cage, her mouth taped shut, her wrists cuffed behind her back?
She went upstairs into Ellis’ bedroom. Retrieving his discarded shorts, she went through the pockets, pulling out Ellis’ cell phone, along with his key ring and a small, thin remote control. She pushed the red button and heard a faint snicking sound, like locks being turned. She pushed the green button and the locks were released. So that was how he had done it. She eyed the smart phone, again contemplating a 9-1-1 call and again deciding against it. She slipped the items into one of the large pockets of her lounge pants.
She wondered where her things were, and where her car was. Ellis had probably gotten rid of all of it, but Mia found she didn’t really care. She didn’t want any of it. She just wanted to get away, as far away as possible, and a lovely, secluded island off the coast of Africa seemed like just the place to go. All she needed was her passport and some money to buy the things she would need once she got there.
She went to Ellis’ bureau. His wallet was sitting right there, beside an expensive looking gold watch. She opened the wallet, feeling not the slightest trace of guilt as she extracted a thick wad of cash. She was shocked as she counted the money. There was twenty-two hundred dollars there. She folded the bills in half and pocketed them. She opened a small black lacquer jewelry box. Inside she found several thick gold coins on the bottom of the box. She took these, along with two pairs of gold cufflinks, one set with what looked like emeralds, the other with diamonds, and added them to the growing collection in her pockets.
On the table in the sitting area she found a leather portfolio. Inside she found both her and Ellis’ passports, along with the receipts and papers from their chartered jet. She pocketed her passport and carried the papers back downstairs. She placed them in the trash compactor and turned it on.
Opening the refrigerator, she pulled out a bottle of sparkling water and unscrewed the cap. She took a long, refreshing drink and headed back upstairs, taking the bottle with her.
She went into her bedroom, pulling the gun from her pocket as she headed toward the closet. Flicking on the light, she stared down at the naked man huddled in the cage.
He squinted up at her. “M, let me out of here,” he said in a hoarse voice.
“Don’t call me M, asshole. You may call me Ms. Roberts.” She watched his gaze travel from her face to the gun in her hand.
“Ms. Roberts, then,” he said through gritted teeth. “I ne
ed to piss. And my arm is killing me. I can’t believe you actually shot me, M—uh, Ms. Roberts. I’ve lost a lot of blood. I might die in here. Do you really want a death on your hands? You’re looking at life in prison.”
“The bullet barely broke the skin, you pathetic piece of shit. For someone who’s so good at handing out pain, you’re pretty piss poor at taking it. Not that I’m surprised. Bullies are always cowards at heart.”
Mia could barely believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. Wow, it felt amazing to be talking like that! She had never in her life, not once, not ever, said just exactly what she was thinking and feeling. Even before Ellis had abducted, brainwashed and nearly destroyed her, she’d always been shy about expressing herself, and deferential in the extreme. No wonder he’d picked her out of all those other girls he claimed to have interviewed. She’d been scared of her own shadow back then.
Not anymore.
She drank the last of the water and crouched beside the cage, her gun aimed at Ellis’ handsome face. “You want to pee?” She shoved the head of the bottle between the narrow bars of the cage. “Go ahead. Stick your dick in that, if you want.”
Ellis gripped the bars of the cage, his face mottling with rage. Suddenly frightened, Mia fell back on her ass. She scooted away and pulled herself into a standing position. “Watch it, I might accidentally shoot you in the face if you startle me like that again. I think you better apologize.”
Ellis stared at her. She towered over the cage, aiming the gun at the top of his head. The small click of the safety being released caught Ellis’ attention. “I’m sorry, Ms. Roberts,” he managed. He looked up at her, his beautiful brown eyes beseeching her. “Please. You have to let me out of here. I don’t like being confined like this.”
“Gee, no kidding,” she snapped. “Imagine being whipped within an inch of your life first, and then having someone piss into your mouth. Then try spending the next twelve hours in this cage in the dark, with your mouth covered in duct tape and your wrists cuffed behind your back.” She let that sink in a moment as she glared at the son of a bitch. “If you’re very, very good, I might let you out eventually. Meanwhile, it’s late and I’m tired. I’m going to sleep in a nice, comfortable bed, with the gun right beside me. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t make a goddamn sound.”
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