For Love & Torture_A Submissives’ Secrets Novel

by Michelle Love

  Letting his hands go, I get up and move around the table. Dad stands up too, and I hug him one more time before I have to leave him here in this prison. A place he’s never belonged.

  “Grant, don’t be mad at me if I don’t come back to my old self.”

  I pull back to look at him, and I see fresh tears have fallen down his cheeks. “Dad, I know you can’t be who you were with Mom. But I know you can be someone. You have four kids who love you. You have a family, Dad. Rotting away in this place isn’t good for anyone. And Mom won’t have it anymore, anyway. I’ll be back soon and spring you. I promise you that. I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you too, son.” His eyes are shimmering with tears and his lower lip quivers as he tries desperately to hold back a sob.

  With a pat on the back, I try to reassure him, “Dad, this is about to be behind us all. All the pain, all the torturing of our souls we’ve done to ourselves is almost over. I’ll have you out of here as quickly as I can. Hang in there. And just hang on to the love your children and your dead wife have for you. The future is bright now. That dark overcast that’s hovered over us all since that horrible day is about to give way to sunshine. Don’t worry.”

  Leaving my father where he is proves to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. But I do it, knowing that when I come back to this place he will be coming home with me for good.

  Part Four

  Chapter 27

  Grant

  As the sun leaves the sky, I sit on one of the patios in the back of my home and watch the blue and pink hues while I think about Isabel and what’s happening to her at this very moment.

  Is she being beaten? Or fucked against her will?

  Or does she like it?

  Bart is dark, but she’s accustomed to dark men. I haven’t exactly been a bright light in her life. I’ve given her more grief than any man ever has, I’m sure.

  The only thing that keeps me sane is knowing that she’s had a lot of experience with all the different types of play. Her threshold for pain is phenomenal. And her ability to turn pain into pleasure is up there with the best of them.

  But that was with me. And only me. Never has another man’s hands touched her in that way. Only mine.

  Is she in pain? Is she afraid? Is she wishing she was safe here in my arms?

  I have so many questions, and none of them can be answered until I see her again. When will that be?

  My cell rings and I hurry to grab it off the table. It’s Jenny. “Hi, sis.”

  “Hi, big brother. Were you able to get anything accomplished today?”

  “A lot, actually. Mother’s body is already at the coroner’s office, and I paid to have a special investigator sent in. He was able to procure the knife that was used to inflict the wound from the evidence room of the police station where it’s been stored.” I stop to pick up my water bottle and take a drink, letting what I’ve told her soak in.

  “Oh, my. You have accomplished a lot today. I didn’t think you’d get that done so quickly.”

  “Yeah, well I have even more news for you. Are you sitting down?” I wait to be sure she is.

  “I am now. What is it?”

  “I went to see Dad and not only did he talk to me but he also told me Mom cut her own wrist.”

  “God. I can’t believe it.” There’s a space of silence, and then I hear her crying. “God, Grant. Was she sick?”

  “Cancer. Dad said female cancer, so I’m guessing ovarian or cervical. The autopsy will tell us that. Knowing Mom, she didn’t want to die a long slow death and decided to end her life on her own terms. Typical Mom.” I take another drink of the water and think about telling Jenny that Bell is missing, but decide not to. My siblings don’t have a clue what I’m into, and I want to keep it that way.

  After she blows her nose, she says, “And Dad took the blame for it. Most likely because he didn’t want to live alone without her. Better to be in a real prison than one he made up in his head. Is he okay, Grant? Do you think we’ll ever get the old Dad back?”

  “With time and a lot of mental help, we will have our father back. Maybe not the exact man we had before, but he’ll come around. I’ll make sure of that. I told him he’s going to live with me. He kind of freaked when he thought about going to his and Mom’s place.” I tap the table and think about how I’d be if I were in his shoes. I’d probably feel the same.

  I’m having a hard time being inside my own house right now because Bell isn’t there and I don’t know where she is.

  “I’m glad you’re taking him in. When he’s better, he can stay with me some too. I’m sure Jake and Becca will want him to spend some quality time with them as well. How long before you can get him set free?”

  “I talked to a lawyer today who’s in good with a judge. He thinks it might be as soon as the end of the week.” My chest swells with pride at the fact that I’m actually doing great things for once.

  If only Bell were at my side, cheering me on the way she surely would be if she were here.

  “Mind if I tell the other two about this great news, Grant?”

  “Be my guest. I’ll talk to you tomorrow and let you know if there’s any news. Bye now.” I end the call and get up to go inside as the sun has completely left and it’s dark and growing colder.

  As I step into the house, I notice an odd smell and follow it to the kitchen. Freezing in place, I see that the slut from the club last night—the one who caused this all to happen—is cooking something on my stove. “Hungry?” she asks as if she’s not trespassing at all.

  I’m about to grab her, tie her ass up and call the cops. But then I remember that I believe she’s in cahoots with Bart and decide to play along. For a while, anyway. “Fancy seeing you here. What’s cooking?”

  “It’s a soup. Chicken feet soup. A delicacy, you know?” She smiles at me. Her deep purple lips curve up sharply at each side. “My name’s Harsh, Grant Jamison. I’ve been sent to you. My master feels you should have a woman to replace the one he’s taken.”

  “Your master, huh?” I take a seat at the table, trying to figure out the best way to handle this. “And where are he and my girl right now?”

  A high-pitched laugh erupts from her throat, and I find it hits my ears in a manner that’s none too pleasing. “As if I could tell you that. Just get over her. She’s meant for him, not you. I can fill her role. I can fuck you every bit as good as she can. You may find I’m actually much better at it than she is anyway. And I love to receive punishment and pain. I live for it, actually.”

  “Do you?” I drum my fingers on the table.

  Now, why would that asshole send a woman over here to me? What kind of person is he?

  She fills a bowl with the disgusting looking soup. Chicken feet stick up all over the bowl, and it is anything but appetizing. “Here you go, new master.” She places the bowl in front of me, and the smell, which is so close to my nose, threatens to make me gag.

  “Not having any?” I ask her as she takes a seat without getting herself a thing.

  Shaking her head, she picks up the spoon. “I’m feeding you, Master. A good sub never eats before making sure her master is fed. I’ve been taught well. No bad habits and I know how to treat a man.”

  “Then you should know that I don’t eat things like this. And I don’t let women feed me. I’m a man who’s able to feed himself, and I’ll be doing just that. I am also a man who takes care of his woman, not the other way around. And I also am a man who keeps what is his.” Grabbing her by the wrist, I hold her to make sure she understands she will do as I say or she will suffer unbelievably. “Now, tell me where I can find my woman or you will be sorrier than you’ve ever been.”

  Her eyes open wide as she laughs. “Do what you want to me. I’m unbreakable. Whip me, torture me if you’d like. It only serves to delight me. My old master made sure I was accustomed to pain. He’ll teach your little girl how to deal with that too. Don’t worry, she’s getting a good education.”

>   With a quick movement, I get up and pull my belt off then bind her arms behind her back, running the belt through the rungs on the back of the chair to keep her in place. Pulling out my cell, I call the police station. “Portland Police Department,” a woman answers.

  “Hello, I need Detective Jones, please. This is Grant Jamison. I made a report to him this morning.”

  “One moment, please,” she says with a cheery tone.

  “Jones, here, Mr. Jamison. What can I do for you this evening?” he asks.

  Harsh laughs loudly. “Calling the police won’t change a thing, Master.”

  “Shut up!” I turn my attention back to the phone. “Bart Mason sent a woman here to replace the one he took from me. At least that’s what this woman who broke into my home told me. Is that enough evidence to make a kidnapping claim?”

  “I’ll be right over to question her. Can you keep her there?” he asks.

  “She’s belted to a dining room chair. She’ll be here. I’ll text you my address.” I end the call and turn a chair around backward and look at her.

  Her long blonde hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail. Her makeup is thickly applied, and the sparkling blue eyeshadow makes her blue eyes pop. The short skirt she’s wearing almost shows her cunt, which I can tell is bare, no panties on her, not even a thong I bet. Her tight white shirt shows her pert nipples as they’ve pebbled with desire. No bra covers them, leaving nothing to the imagination. She scrapes her high-heeled feet across the tiled floor as she moves her chair toward mine.

  Reaching out, I stop her when she’s at arm’s length. “Don’t.”

  “You’re making things harder than they have to be. Just stop. Just let him have her. She’s not worth the fight, Master. I promise you that. And she’s into him. I’ve seen it myself. She quivers with desire for him. She looks at him with lust-filled eyes. And he denies her his affection, his sexual attention. She begs him for it, but he’s making her wait. It’s what he does. He teases and taunts for months before he allows his women to have a piece of him. Believe me, if you somehow managed to find her, she wouldn’t come back to you anyway.”

  All I can think about is the fact that he hasn’t fucked her—if what the slut is saying is true. And he could be feeding Bell drugs to make her horny. If this woman has witnessed anything at all, which I highly doubt.

  “Tell me where she is and let me see it for myself.”

  She closes her eyes and tells me to close mine too and to touch her body anywhere, and she will show me everything. I see this as some kind of a parlor trick and do as she’s said to, placing my hand on her shoulder.

  Just as my eyes close, I see a dark place, lit only by firelight. Someone is lying on what looks like an altar made of stone. A flowing white dress falls over one side, and I find the person’s wrists and ankles are bound to the stone. Her head moves back and forth as she pleads, “Please, stop making me wait. I can’t take it. Please.” It’s Bell’s voice.

  A deep growl that turns into a laugh sends shivers down my spine. “You want it now. Imagine how much more you will want it if you have to wait.” It’s Bart’s voice I hear, and I can’t believe this.

  I open my eyes and move my hand off her. “I don’t believe you. It’s a magic trick.”

  Harsh looks at the stove and I follow her stare. A fire blazes up from the gas stove, nearly touching the high ceiling. “Is that a trick?”

  “I’m sure it is.” I get up and go to turn off the burner, and the flame goes out. “I’m not falling for this shit, Harsh. And the detective that’s coming over won’t either. Time to be real. Time to face the music and tell me where my woman is. Or you’ll be sitting in jail for a good long while until you do.”

  An eerie smile crosses her lips and I hear a clicking sound, and then look over to see the belt fall to the floor. Her hands are now free. “You want real, you’ve got it.”

  She stands up and pops her neck then comes at me with a speed that seems impossible. I’m thrown against the wall before I can stop her. Her strength is unreal.

  Then the doorbell rings, and she looks behind her. It gives me just enough time to put her in a headlock and get her on the ground. I hold her down, using my knees to pin her shoulders. Ripping the bottom of my t-shirt, I make a thin strip and tie her hands then heave her up and push her toward the door as I go to answer it. “I don’t know what’s up with you, but I’m no pussy, bitch.”

  Yanking her to come along with me, I answer the door, and the detective is waiting there. “Hey, there.” He looks at the woman I have tied and looks a little sick. “Shit, man. What the hell are you doing?”

  “She knows where Isabel is. I want you to get it out of her.” I push her to sit on the sofa in the foyer as Jones comes in, closing the door behind him. “I think Bart and this one here are into some kind of magic shit and are trying to make it seem as if they’re actually magic. But I’m not an idiot. And I bet you’re not one either.”

  “No, I’m not an idiot. Did she agree to let you tie her up?” he asks me as he looks at her.

  “He’s my master,” she says as she smiles. “He can do anything he wants to me.”

  “Is that so?” the detective asks me. “And you forgot to mention this to me?”

  “I’m not her master. Bart sent her to me, telling her to tell me she’s mine, replacing the woman he took from me. I have not made this woman my anything. And never will. Can’t you give her some truth serum or something and make her tell us where he’s keeping Isabel?” I begin to pace around the room as my nerves are about to completely take over.

  “We don’t have any truth serum, Mr. Jamison.” He takes a seat on the coffee table in front of Harsh. “And your name is?”

  “Beth Cooper. I’m from Iowa. I was sent by the man who was my master to become this man’s slave. An even trade in our world. Has Mr. Jamison told you that he’s the owner of a BDSM club?” She smirks at me as she tells him something I hadn’t.

  Surprised eyes find mine as Detective Jones looks at me. “Is that so?”

  “It is. I’m one of the owners of The Dungeon of Decorum. But, like you said, that’s not illegal.” I take a seat and try to calm myself down so I can make rational decisions.

  “No, but you should’ve told me that. Did you and Isabel Sanchez have a Master/slave relationship?” he asks me as he narrows his eyes at me. “Or a Dom/sub relationship? Is there something more to your relationship than just being boyfriend and girlfriend?”

  I’m stumped as to what to say. “Our relationship is complicated. Isabel and I have no contract. She’s not my sub or my slave. She is, in every aspect, my girl though. And we do practice BDSM.”

  Jones shakes his head as he looks down. “What you people don’t seem to understand is that when you live like this, when you practice such dark things, things can happen. Things you might not like. You people are loose with your bodies. You all treat each other less than humanely. Like you’re all just pieces of meat. Objects to be used for the pleasure of others. This woman, Isabel, what makes you so sure she doesn’t want this other man?”

  I stand up and shout, “Because she’s mine!”

  With a chuckle, he shakes his head. “People don’t really belong to other people. These contracts are only as good as the paper they’re written on. And you and she don’t even have one. The woman isn’t yours to keep, Mr. Jamison.”

  Falling back into the chair, I fight not to lose control completely. “Can you just take this woman to jail? She broke into my home. If she’s released, she’ll come right back and do it again. I want her locked up.”

  He turns his attention to Beth Cooper, who calls herself Harsh. “And how did you get into this man’s home, Miss Cooper?”

  “The door wasn’t locked. I just let myself in. I didn’t break a thing. And I made him dinner.” She cuts her eyes at me. “Which he didn’t even eat. I have to tell you, this man is really moody and not very nice at all. I’m kind of upset my master gave me to him.”

&nbs
p; “I don’t want you, you little slut,” I hiss at her.

  Jones clucks his tongue as he looks at me. “No need for name calling. I don’t see any reason to take her in. And even if I do, I’m sure she’d be released in a matter of a few hours. Your lifestyle is the reason these things are happening to you. If you don’t like it, then get out of it.”

  Sitting in the chair, I feel as if I’m in a crazy place. My life has been turned upside down once again. “I want her out of here.”

  She tears up. “I have no place to go. My master sent me here. I was dropped off. I don’t even have a ride.”

  Pulling a few hundred dollars out of my pocket, I hand it to the cop. “Here, can you take her to a hotel and give her this to pay for it. I want nothing to do with her.” Then I look at the one person who could possibly get me to Isabel. “If you have a soul, you’d tell me how to get to Isabel.”

  Maniacal laughter fills the room. “I got rid of that eons ago.”

  Chapter 28

  Isabel

  Left alone, still strapped to this damn stone Bart put me on, I lay here and look at the fire. I’m helpless here. He’s left me alone for hours it seems. I have no idea of the reality of time in this place.

  I have the distinct feeling I’m in another realm or dimension. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this could only be a dream, but things feel too real. The cold steel bites at my ankles and wrists as the metal holds me to the stone altar.

  Bart’s told me I’m a sacrifice. My blood will be set free with his bite and will be given to his master as a gift for his eternal life. I asked him why he wants to do this to me. He told me he saw me in a dream. I am the one his master wants to drink the life out of.