“Strip him,” she ordered. The goddess’s eyes narrowed, and her breathing sped up. She was relishing every minute of this, damn her.
One ghoul ripped the T-shirt off Ken’s stretched out form, and the other puzzled over the jeans. He grabbed and attempted to rip, but the material wouldn’t give. He tried to jerk them down, but Ken―too well packed into them―allowed no room for budging.
“Oh for gods’ sake,” Bel exhaled, clearly displeased. “Move away. I’ll do it.” Now Matthew looked put out.
“I’ll take care of it, Bel,” the god assured his goddess. But before he could approach Ken, the goddess stopped him with a quick tug to his arm. She wouldn’t relinquish getting her hands on the agent. Dorian was sure of it.
“No, my love,” she admonished. “It will be my pleasure.”
Dorian could see that pissed Matthew off, but the god knew enough to defer to his mate.
Bel moved forward once again and ran the back of her hand across the light hair on Ken’s chest. She pinched one nipple, waiting for his reaction. Ken remained stoic.
“Don’t worry,” she purred as her hands dropped to the zipper front of his jeans. “You’ll be putty under my hands soon enough.” Her fingers made quick work of the fastenings, and his pants were sent to his ankles, followed by his boxers. Bel let her lascivious, hooded gaze caress his resting penis, then moved around to take an extra long look at his muscled ass.
“They’re making humans much more interesting these days.” She reached out and filled her hand with one ass cheek. “It’s a shame we’re going to mar such lovely flesh.” She moved back to where Ken could see her, and reached between his legs, cupping his balls. Dorian flinched in sympathy as she tightened her grip.
“You can make this easy if you answer my questions,’ she drawled, cradling his tender orbs. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
When zero response came from Ken, Bel gave a slight twist of her hand. “Answer me when you’re spoken to,” she ordered as she applied the extra pressure.
“Yes ma’am,” Ken forced out between clenched teeth. “What questions ma’am?”
“Now, now. This ma’am stuff makes me feel like an old woman.” She let go of his balls and wrapped her hand around his flaccid penis. “You can call me Bel.” She waited a few seconds before repeating.
“My name is Bel.” She hissed at him, tugging sharply on unresponsive flesh. “Say it.” Her movements on his prick became methodical…practiced.
“Bel,” Ken’s eyes held hatred as she softened her touch, and stroked the length of him. Against his will, his cock thickened.
“See how nice we can be to each other?” she looked down, appreciatively. “Ooh. Nothing to be ashamed of here,” she assured him.
“Good to know,” Ken growled back, and this time got a chortle of laughter.
“It’s too bad we can’t put this to use. It’s quite pretty”—she pouted—”but someone would get very jealous.” She turned to flirt with an unhappy Matthew. An ugly, calculated scene, Dorian had to drop his gaze. Even though he knew it would not be the worst thing he’d see tonight.
Eventually, when Ken regained his control, and his nervous erection subsided, Bel declared it time to move on. She walked deliberately to the bench and picked up the nine-tailed whip. “Did you have a chance to notice my little toy?” she asked Ken with a whiny leer. He didn’t move his head, but replied as she had demanded.
“I did.”
Dammit. If he’d known Ken would see it, Dorian would have kept the whip hidden. Now, in his imagination, Ken had probably envisioned a flogging hundreds of times over. Good or bad? Dorian wondered which kind of personality Ken possessed—the kind that watched a needle coming at him, or the kind that turned away. He hoped the agent was the face-on type. That way, seeing the whip would have him prepared, rather than scared.
True to form, the goddess came forward with the beaded leather tendrils and ran them lovingly across Ken’s flanks. His fine muscles showed the trace of a tremor, like that of a thoroughbred racehorse heading into the starting gate. The agent took a deep breath, waiting for the bite.
Bel chose to play a little longer. She walked around to his front, and ran the stiff part of the whip up between Ken’s legs, tapping under his balls. “Where do you think I should begin?” she asked him. This time he didn’t answer, and she hadn’t expected it. “I can make you scream right away if I have the demons spread your legs and send these up into your delicate testicles.” She kept up her taunting rhythm. “But I don’t think you’d be in any condition to talk to me after that.” She removed the prod and wandered to Ken’s side. “I think we’ll keep it to the back for now…” Without warning, but with goddess speed and strength, she let the cords fly. Ken didn’t flinch as a welt of blood rose across his broad shoulders.
“Now. Why don’t we start with an easy question?” She snapped the strands lightly, over and over again into the same spot, aggravating Ken’s broken skin. “Tell me who your blue friends are.”
Ken met her with silence, and whack. The tails came down again, lower this time, breaking new skin. “I’ll give you an opportunity to spare yourself the worst. I actually have four questions, and if you answer two out of the four, I’ll keep your punishment to ten lashes, and I’ll let you recuperate for the night. Otherwise…” she trailed off and lay a hard blow across his ass. The color rose in her face as a bloody welt appeared. Dorian nearly cursed out loud. The more the bitch hurt him, the more turned on she became. He yearned to wrap his hands around her skinny neck, choking the life out of her evil body.
The goddess listed her questions for Ken. “First, I want to know about the blue men. Then I want to be told what kind of immortal the woman, Obedience is. Three, why is Kulla building that stone structure, and finally, who is the busty blonde goddess in the compound with whom I’m unfamiliar?”
Ken’s head jerked up at the last question and Dorian almost groaned. The agent had just given away his interest in Vesca; a ‘tell’ that Beletseri wouldn’t miss.
“Ah. So the little buxom one means something to you, does she? Well guess what? She’ll be my next target,” Bel derided.
“She’s not a Chosen,” Ken ground out. “Leave her out of this.”
“What is she then?” The light of winning a battle shone in Bel’s eyes. Ken had spoken. Dorian knew she figured in a matter of time she’d learn everything.
The agent must have seen her gloating too. He locked his jaw and refused to say another word. Bel drew back her arm and gave him three lashes in quick succession.
“Stop playing now. Because I assure you, I have.” Her face turned a deeper shade of red. “Answer me, or I’ll whip you until you’re raw.”
As Bel waited to see what Ken would do, Dorian turned to look at her mate, Matthew. He seemed to be enjoying the agent’s pain, and chose that moment to add fuel to Ken’s mental torment.
“We’ll be grabbing your sister Charlie too, the first chance we get,” he taunted. “I’m going to tie her up and fuck her silly. And you know what? She’ll like it ‘cuz she’s into that kinky stuff. I almost had her out in California.”
Dorain could tell that Ken held it together with every last ounce of his strength. It took a lot of head shaking, but the warlock finally realized the agent had won his internal battle. He would not talk. The goddess realized it too.
“Fine then. Suffer the pain of your decision.” She brought her arm down again and again, removing strip after strip of Ken’s skin. His nostrils flared with pain, but he made not a single sound. When his body finally had enough, his grip on consciousness simply let go. He went from rigid to limp in seconds, succumbing to a darkness that brought him away from the pain.
Bel threw the whip across the room. “Damn him.” she screamed. “Water, you useless bags of scum.” she screamed at the two demons. “Wake him, now.”
One of them scurried out the door and brought back a bucket, which he threw onto Ken’s hanging body. The agent
’s head rolled up, his eyes unfocused.
“Better,” she chortled at the revived agent. “Don’t think to leave us again.” She motioned to the minions. “Cut the restraint on his feet, get rid of the pants around his ankles and move his legs apart.”
Dorian’s lips drew back over his teeth in a snarl. She wouldn’t dare.
Even Matthew thought to protest. “Uh, Bel. I think that might be little over the top,” he ventured. She rounded on him, picking up the whip and bringing it to the front of his pants.
“Would you care to take his place?” She hissed at his outraged expression, but then she lowered the whip and took a deep breath. “Okay. Don’t worry. I won’t get too carried away. Pain, but no permanent damage this time. I’ll save that for our next session.” She reasoned with her mate. “What he has to see,” she looked Ken straight in his pain-filled eyes, “is that I’m serious about this, and with a little incentive, he’ll know what he has to look forward to tomorrow.”
The demons did as they were bid, and Ken had no strength to fight. Once his legs were apart, Bel brought just the tips of the leather flails up, snapping into contact with his balls. Ken grunted, and strained against the hands that held him.
“You don’t like that?” She laughed. “A few more, just to give you a taste.” She whipped the sensitive area again, holding back, but inflicting a nasty sting. Her smile told Dorian everything. What a sadistic bitch this goddess. The warlock felt every blow as if she were doing it to him.
After several minutes Ken finally went limp. Dorian didn’t know if the blood loss, or the pain that had traveled up into Ken’s gut from the assault on his balls did him in, but oblivion was a good thing.
Before Bel could think to rouse the agent and renew efforts, Dorian used the opportunity of Ken’s weakness to weave a small spell that would keep him knocked out, regardless of cold water dousing. The goddess wouldn’t have any more fun tonight.
The warlock didn’t have to worry. Beletseri’s mind had turned to other things.
“Cut him down,” the goddess instructed the demons waving a hand haphazardly over her shoulder. She turned to look at her mate, licking her lips.
She walked over and yanked Matthew hard up against her body. “I’m ready for round two,” she whispered, biting the lobe of his ear. Dorian could see Matthew relax knowing that the lashings were at an end. He was clearly on board with getting his partner’s mind on something else. He ground his pelvis into Bel’s with rising passion. Finally breaking apart, they walked hand in hand, amidst smoldering looks, to the door, where the goddess barked out more orders at the demons outside.
“Watch the prisoner well,” she commanded. “I’ll be busy for the rest of the evening.” Matthew scooped the goddess up in his arms, and her deceptively girlish laughter filtered back. The pair would be out of the picture for a good long while.
If ever an opportunity arose for rescue, the time was now.
Chapter Fourteen
The large group at the Blue Hills toiled until dark, with Kulla wheeling around and barking orders as the building rapidly progressed. He’d almost managed to mist to the top of the structure at one point, but his power failed half way up, and he had to be lifted and returned to his earthbound chair, much to his disgust. Gods could mist with minor injuries, but needed help from friends to be transported with major hurts, and Doctor Dani had expressly forbidden any of the gods from moving Kulla more than necessary. It pissed him off that he still needed help, but he had to admit, his legs were healing faster than they would if he’d tried to be active.
If it weren’t for the fact that they’d had no word from Dorian, the outing would have been jovial. It had been a while since the group had undertaken a project together, and the banter and insults zinged like darts all day, much to Kulla’s delight. He noticed a lot of head shaking amongst the women, who wondered how the males could find so many ways to insult each other’s masculinity.
King Nergal had been called by Marduk, and he’d promised to join the immortals for a late dinner. Absu and Charlie were inside cooking, having put little Maity to bed after she’d practically dropped, exhausted from a day full of fresh air and activity. When the group finally called it quits at seven thirty, Kulla knew everybody’s mind centered on Ken. If Beletseri held to her plan, the male would have undergone torture for half an hour by now. Vesca had silently wept for every one of those thirty minutes. If he didn’t know better, he’d think a connection existed between the two already.
Obedience tagged Anshar and Dagon to lift his chair back into the house. He didn’t protest. He’d grown tired from the day’s activities after being confined to bed for so long. His little witch came and dropped a quick kiss on his lips. “It’ll be done a lot faster than you thought.” Her eyes twinkled in the fading light. “Which means I’ll have you in bed before the week is out,” she teased.
“Ah, I see that you have a plan”—he grinned—”but what if I told you to add three days to your estimate of when you can have your way with me?” He picked up her hand and kissed her palm, soothing a long abrasion she’d earned while hefting materials.
She scowled. “Three days? What does that mean?” She got her answer from Dagon, one of the chair barriers.
“When Kulla finishes a project, it is written that he has to spend three days in Hell after its dedication. A fun place to visit.”
Kulla knew that the Underworld did not hold appeal as Dagon’s favorite destination spot, the serpent god having been the latest of their group to battle the dangers below, but Kulla couldn’t complain. His own recent stay had been more like a mini-vacation, catching up with the king and queen. It was nice to have a rest after a difficult job. Of course, this time, he had someone special to come back to, and he would be counting the minutes until he could be with Obedience.
“Who made that rule?” Obedience groused. “It’s fucked up.”
Kulla chuckled, and Anshar interjected, “Not as fucked up as someone who won’t take their willing and able Chosen to bed after centuries of abstinence.” He twisted his mouth, wryly. “You’ve got some serious screws loose, my friend.” He grinned at Obedience. “I think he might be too old and out of practice for you. He’s probably waiting for his mail-order prescription of Viagra so he can get it up and not embarrass himself.”
And off they went into cock jokes again. Obedience just shook her head.
King Nergal, and Queen Ereshkigal looking not the least bit rounded in her third month of pregnancy, misted in just as food appeared on the table. Absu put on a grand feast with an enormous Paella, and everyone dove into the seafood without waiting on niceties. Marduk brought up the subject du jour.
“I have word that Sal Demetria, Candy’s old nemesis has been busy in your realm.”
Nergal’s eyebrows went up. “How so?” the king asked, clearly in the dark.
“Busy enough to have constructed a place to confine us should we be stupid enough to get caught by Beletseri.”
“This is some plan of Bel’s?” Nergal’s eyes narrowed. “It sounds like something I can’t ignore.”
His gaze sharpened. “Wait. Sal? As in my new secretary’s ex-boss?” He referred to his employee, Gustavo, known as Stave, who had turned good-guy in the end, saving Candy from a bullet, but subsequently succumbing to death. Candy read the riot act to Nergal for taking the guy to Hell, and had championed the dead human into a job as Nergal’s right hand man. Now the king couldn’t do without Stave.
“Yup. Sal’s that guy,” Candy confirmed. “Asshole extraordinaire. And how’s Stave, anyway?” She always asked about her friend. Kulla and everyone else knew she had a soft spot for the six-foot-tall, good looking―if you ignored the sinister smile and the comb-over―male.
Enlil growled, and Kulla suppressed a grin. Fucking Enlil. Always jealous, even though the thug was stone dead.
“Good, good,” Nergal said absently. He stroked his chin and looking thoughtful. “He might be of some help on this one.” He didn�
��t elaborate. “Let me see what I can find out about covert dealings down below, and we’ll go from there. In the meantime, I have an easy suggestion.” He picked up a succulent shrimp from his plate and popped it in his mouth, “Don’t go to Hell.”
****
The dessert came out as Dorian appeared. His sides heaved, and though covered in blood his smile gleamed triumphant. “We have him.” The warlock teetered on his feet, and Tess quickly shoved a chair up behind him. Dorian sank into it gratefully.
“How?” Marduk’s question hovered on everyone’s lips, including the attending royalty, who heard the whole abduction story over dinner. Kulla sat back with the rest and listened.
“Bel finished her inquisition of Ken.” Kulla noted the warlock’s lack of details on the “inquisition”. “It spiked the bitch’s libido. She and Matthew left your agent on the floor and went off to fuck.” His sneer let everyone know how he felt about that. “The goddess ordered the demons outside to keep watch.” Here, he smiled. “And we all know the attention span of most hellions.”
Dorian rubbed his hands. “I also remembered their particular fondness for alcohol, so as quickly as I could, I conjured in several kegs of dark beer, then had Planchette tell me a safe time to have it appear in a clearing to one side of where a host of green mouth suckers and Casper types were gathered around a fire.” He painted a vivid picture, and Kulla could visualize the scene.
“Not long after, one of them stumbled on the stash, and as I hoped, they assumed that Beletseri had brought it for them. It took the lightweights no time at all to get blotto. In the interim, I took note of how often they looked in on Ken, and found it lengthened from ten minutes to twenty after they’d begun to drink.”
Kulla and the gods saved their own asses more than once plying the ghouls with alcohol harvested in a particular room in the Underworld.
“I called the team each time the demons went back outside, and with Wizarr’s help, they found a window of opportunity where all the perimeter patrols went in to get their share of the free drink. I ‘spelled’ some of the sheathing on the back of the structure using a minor amount of magic, and the agents snuck through. They were in and out in seconds. The trip back through the woods was accomplished as quickly as possible, but we had to hide a lot. The guards soon discovered their man missing and frantically searched for us. But with the help of the cats we were able to make our escape. Luckily humans and warlocks don’t give off any demon-detectable pheromones, so they couldn’t track us. We took turns carrying Ken to the agent’s van.” Dorian indicated the blood on his clothes. “He’s in rough shape.” The warlock held out his hands apologetically. “We did the best we could.”
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