Reckoning

by Shakir Rashaan

  I looked down at Natasha, watching her eyes as she silently begged me to take her there. I nodded, a grin on my face that was meant to excite her and scare the hell out of her at the same time.

  I continued swatting everywhere I knew she would react to, observing her body as it instinctively flashed and jerked, each motion serving to arouse me and take me to the point of no return. It was only a matter of time before the crowd would be tuned out and the only thing that would matter was my pleasure and release.

  Those thoughts would soon get interrupted as Neferterri’s penchant for fire would render anything I did from that point forward null and void. Niki screamed like her body was ablaze inside and out as the combination of the fire and the swats of the canes that I didn’t notice were in Neferterri’s hands took her into the stratosphere.

  Her orgasmic release sounded like she could pierce glass, if there was any nearby. Her body contorted, her thighs desperate to close to brace themselves, the rest of her trembling with ferocity as the waves surged through her. She sounded feral, yet ready to be claimed and taken. It was intoxicating to witness, and the urge to cut the scenes short and wear them out was nearly too much to bear.

  Natasha’s screams rivaled her sister’s, the pitch being brought on by my intensity as the strokes of the floggers came down with the force of an F4 tornado. I was going to have my eruption, one way or another, even if I needed help to get her off the stage. It would be a wonderful byproduct of unleashing my more sadistic tendencies, something they’d been unintentionally bringing out of me for the better part of the past year.

  “Master, Master, fuck, don’t stop! Please, don’t stop!” Natasha finally found her words for a moment, wincing and grinding her exposed crotch against the straddle of the bench, nearly soaking it as she felt the dam coming close to breaking. “Can Your slut come for You, please? Please, i’m begging You!”

  I plunged my fingers deep, making her shudder at how wide her sex was being stretched. In the next moment, her eyes narrowed shut as she grit her teeth, her nether regions finally unleashing the tsunami it planned to release, the juices spraying out near the edge of the stage, threatening to soak the first row of onlookers, mesmerized by the sight. I continued to induce the shockwaves through her body raging from her core, causing her legs to shake and strain against the restraints, the muscle definition in her legs showing off the work she’d been putting in at the gym recently.

  She looked like she was going through violent convulsions, nearly triggering the dungeon monitors to intervene. Though I was slowly slipping into my own euphoric stasis, I had the wherewithal to realize they were coming for me. I held my hands up, stopping them before they could get any closer. There was a quick stare down as they tried to rely on their senses and continued to observe Natasha’s helpless state. Their immediate reaction to my block was to look in Ramesses’s direction.

  One look from him and they took their original positions, watching the other scenes at the other stations once they realized that there was no longer danger. Ramesses made a motion to wrap the scene up, sensing that my girls were at their thresholds where they couldn’t take any more.

  I ratcheted up the intensity once more, showing no mercy as I triggered a series of multiple orgasms, causing Natasha to pass out on purpose in the midst of my assault. A few of the women in the audience wouldn’t stop squirming in their chairs, especially when a few caught my glare in their direction. It was interesting to witness; my reputation was starting to precede me now, and after watching those women as their eyes fixated on what I was doing to Natasha, I began to understand how Ramesses felt on a daily basis.

  What a difference a year made.

  A few moments later, a couple of the dungeon monitors were summoned to assist in unshackling Natasha and Niki from their areas. I cradled Natasha in my arms as amani picked Niki from the table, carrying them both off stage.

  Natasha slowly came out of her unconscious state, a weak smile adorning her face. “Thank you, Master. I needed every minute of that. I hope my sis is okay, though; she sounded like she really got put through some delicious torture.”

  I smiled, indulging in the realization that they really didn’t know what was about to come next. By the time I was done with them, they would have a problem walking in the morning.

  NINE

  “This is Law, I have business with Simone Lassiter.”

  I called in a favor to one of my former sergeants to set up the phone call at the prison instead of making the trip out to North Georgia. The way I figured it, if I absolutely had to see her face to face, it would be under dire circumstances. I didn’t want it to get to that, which was the reason I wanted to set things up this way.

  “Law, let’s make sure we do this on a limited basis,” Sarge explained before he secured the line. “The microphone is hot; whatever you say, keep it on the level. It can still be made a matter of public record if it’s so ordered.”

  “I got you, sir.” I wasn’t worried about the call being recorded by the powers that be; they tried to protect against, shall we say, “audio conjugal visits,” so that the inmates would not have added incentive to turn on each other, sexually speaking, of course. “She won’t have time to get off like that.”

  A few moments of silence and a few series of clicks to let me know the line was mic’d up, and the next thing I heard was Simone’s voice, sounding surprised to hear from me so soon. “I take it you’re stuck in a corner of sorts; I didn’t expect to hear from you for at least another day or two.”

  I decided on an old tact that worked on her when we were in college: instead of putting her on the defensive, trying something to play to her vanity would work to my advantage. “Well, I wanted to stay ahead of the game. You always said I was more brawn than brains, right?”

  Simone giggled over the phone, a good sign for me on a lot of levels. She sighed before she got her thoughts together. “You were always good for my ego, D. Now, what can I do for you?”

  “We found something at the ADA’s apartment, something that links the potential suspect.” I offered that information to Simone for the shock factor more than anything. I wasn’t telling the complete truth, but I wasn’t exactly lying through my teeth, either.

  “You already know who did it? Wow. That was faster than I thought.” She sounded genuinely surprised. I wasn’t sure how to handle that, but it didn’t take too long to figure out what she was driving at. “Usually, a couple of people are dead before the lightbulb goes off in your head.”

  I let that insult go in order to get her to talk some more. Self-deprecation was going to have to be the order of the day. “Well, this time, the lightbulb went off early. I guess the killer got sloppy right off the bat.”

  “He really wasn’t too bright.” Simone let that tidbit slip while she thought she was talking under her breath, but the way I had the audio enhanced for the call, I could hear the guard stationed behind her—the one monitoring her time—telling her to wrap it up. “I told her that he would fuck it up.”

  Her? Who was the “her” that Simone was referring to?

  I tried to move the conversation in the direction of her last statement, when she had a quick argument with the guard, taking her away from the conversation. There was a quiet few moments before she returned to the phone. “Sorry about that, love. I was told that we would have more than fifteen minutes to handle this call. I’d hoped to get a taste of the sex that normally drips from your voice, but I guess that won’t be happening. Damn shame, too; you always had the type of voice that made women drop their panties, even though I never wore any.”

  “Okay, Simone, you know that’s against the rules, okay?”

  She started to whine, trying to get her way since she had the upper hand. “But, D, it gets so lonely in here. These women are so damn mannish. I need a real man to set my pussy on fire. When will you come see me again?”

  “This conversation is over.” I deadpanned.

  “Wait! Wait! You need to see
about your girl! The hoe on the stroll!”

  That got my attention. “What do you mean, I need to see about my girl?”

  “You need to see about her ASAP, dummy! If you don’t, you’ll be sorry. It could be a matter of life and death!”

  The phone call disconnected, and no matter how many times I tried to call back, I was stonewalled at every corner. I finally called Sarge on his cell phone to figure out what the hell happened. “Sarge, did something happen that I don’t know about? She was about to give me something on the case I’m working on. She mentioned a woman that she was having a conversation with; is there any way I can find out who that person was?”

  “Dom, off the record, whatever she said during that call with you triggered something that made the guard get her off the call with you.” Sarge sounded like he was outside the building, away from the cameras and audio. “You may have to handle things with her in person, and I’d suggest bringing a lawyer with you when you do. You know, attorney-client privilege?”

  Sarge cut the call, leaving me with a bit of a bad taste in my mouth. At least he gave me a cue on how to not have the audio engaged when I do go up there to see her for more information. I sent a text to Allison to clear her schedule in the next seventy-two hours; I had a feeling I was going to need her services, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

  One thing was for certain: Simone let on quick that she knew more about this case than she wanted me to believe.

  TEN

  “There’s no need to be scared; it’s not like I’m going to kill you or anything.”

  Toni wasn’t exactly scared. “Apprehensive” was more the term she would use, considering the uniqueness of the situation and the size of the payment, the scenario piqued her interest more than she cared to admit.

  Under normal circumstances, she would have sent one of her best girls to handle the request, but he insisted that she be the “dame du nuit,” going so far as to wire a $24,000 deposit into her account without so much as batting an eyelash. That alone washed away any further objections she had about handling this client personally. The lure of this particular job giving her the next three months off was too much to turn down.

  The moment she entered the immaculate Buckhead townhome, she was amazed by the physical specimen in front of her. She almost questioned why he would pay such an exorbitant amount to have her there. He’s too fucking sexy to be paying for it.

  She noticed the display of exotic knives and swords, listening to him explain how he had each one hand-made. Her body trembled at the thought of the ice-cold steel caressing her skin. He couldn’t take his eyes off Tori’s exquisite body, every curve seducing him, increasing his desire to trace and slice every inch of exposed skin at his disposal.

  Moving into the kitchen to find something cold to drink, he pondered the possibilities. As he slipped an ice cube into one of the glasses, he flinched for a moment, feeling the sliver slightly rip through his flesh. It didn’t cut deep enough to draw blood, but it was enough to remind him of its presence. He nearly dropped the glass as an evil smile curled across his lips. She would never suspect a thing, and he would be able to get exactly what he wanted. All the planning would pay off to complete the next phase of his plan.

  It was in that moment that he had the perfect idea: a shell game of sorts, with the knives as part of the game.

  One winner. One loser.

  The blades he wanted to use were dull and razor-sharp to the touch. The ones that were dull he knew would not break the skin, while the ones that were sharp—if he wasn’t careful—would slice the skin to such a degree that blood would be drawn. In his mind, she wouldn’t know the difference, thanks to a slick trick he’d learned using a popular cream whose main ingredients were menthol and methyl salicylate. By the time she’d figured it out, it would be too late.

  She was dressed in the attire he specified, the black, silk-accented dress caressing her curves in ways that did her pictures a grave injustice. Her nipples were already straining against the bra, prominently displaying the arousal he knew could only come from her pleasure in seeing how attractive he was.

  Morphing into the role-play character she was to become, Tori played her part to the hilt from the jump. “My Sir, I have come as you have asked me to do. I am yours to command, as you see fit.”

  He never spoke another word, taking her hand and leading her to the platform bed in the guest bedroom on the main level, bending her over the rails and leaving her ample ass in the air. Taking the wrist cuffs to bind her and make sure she was completely helpless, he slipped under the bed to retrieve the knives and the cream. He growled lowly as he smeared the cream over the duller knives, watching the glow of the candlelight dancing against the face of the blades.

  Tori got a glimpse of the knives in his hands, wiggling her ass to entice him to come closer, cooing and moaning as she anticipated the intense scene she was about to subject herself to. She recognized the quick-release type of cuffs he’d used, and from spending her time with Dominic at NEBU, it settled her nerves a little that she was at least playing with someone who knew what he was doing. If he plays his cards right, I’ll even throw the pussy in for free.

  He lifted her up, straining her arms against their shackles, causing her to wince in pain slightly. “Watch it, sexy; I don’t mind the rough stuff, but it’s gonna cost you extra.”

  He ignored her banter, flipping the point of the knife to trace down between her breasts, applying just enough pressure to make her think her skin was being cut open. She shuddered as the pain/pleasure threshold was being pushed to the brink and they hadn’t gotten warmed up yet. She cried out, her eyes narrowing in his direction as she licked her lips, silently daring him to do it again. The icy nature of the cream left in the crevices of the knife mark made its presence known immediately, giving way to the heat that simulated the illusion that he’d drawn blood and it was trickling down her body.

  He continued to rake the duller knife across her stomach, her inner thighs, applying the same pressure needed to leave the remnants of the cream inside the blade marks to give her the feeling that she was being carved and sliced apart. She teased as her arousal rose to the surface, running her tongue over her lips, purring with each slice across her skin. He slammed her against the mattress again, making her arch her back to give more attention to the fullness of her hips and the beauty of her ass.

  The feel of the edges of the blade against the outer folds of her vulva was enough to send her over the edge. She didn’t dare jerk from the pain; as good as the other slices against her skin felt, she didn’t care too much about it; the delicate parts that belonged to her clit and inner walls were not anything she wanted to take chances with.

  What she didn’t realize was her play partner had made the switch that would take the scene into a sexually heightened direction…and a dangerous one, too.

  “I see someone’s enjoying the blades.” He felt her grunt as he slipped the tip of the blade inside her walls, taking delight in her discomfort as he teased and threatened to slide it deeper inside her. “Does it frighten you to have a knife deep inside you? I know you like it; I can feel you grinding against my blade, slut.”

  “Ohhhhhhh fuck! Yes, Sir, I love it. I’m gonna come!” The waves wreaked havoc through her body, causing her to try to close her legs to brace for the tingles through her body. “Fuck my pussy with that fucking knife! Make me cream all over it, D!”

  Her throes of orgasmic bliss were halted in an instant when he landed a stinging blow against her ass cheeks, snapping her back into the reality of her situation faster than she was prepared for. She looked up, noticing the scowl on his face. Instantly, she knew what she’d done; she’d replaced her client with Dom. “I’m sorry, I did—”

  “Who the fuck told you to come, slut?” While she was relieved that he wasn’t pissed about the Freudian slip, she did realize that she came out of character, a breach of the rules. His eyes darkened, giving an ominous vibe to the situation.
“I should beat your ass black and blue for disobeying me!”

  “No one, Sir, no one!” She couldn’t stop the aftershocks from roiling through her, biting her lip to stifle the moans rising in her throat. “Please, forgive me, Sir; it won’t happen again, I beg you!”

  Gripping her silken mane and twisting it in his fingers, he snatched her head back, causing her to instinctively kneel atop the mattress. He accessed the quick-releases on the wrist cuffs, taking the knife lodged inside her nether regions before flipping her over and spreading her legs wide. He kneeled between them, admiring the view, the knives still in his possession.

  The whole scene had played out in ways that he only imagined, each move made bringing him closer to the outcome he had in mind. It seemed too easy, so effortless, to the point to where he wasn’t sure if he wanted it to end this way. He wanted more of a challenge, but he didn’t want to be too ungrateful, either. The big prize would soon find itself worthy of his time and effort. He looked forward to that as he took one last look at his prey.

  Yes, this would be how the game would end. He wanted her to see the end coming, and he wanted her to fight, despite the resistance being futile. He needed the adrenaline rush; the rush of her fear would fuel his aggression before he dispatched her to the next world.

  He buried himself deep inside of Tori, slamming into her on the down stroke, slowly easing out of her before slamming into her again. She reached around and clawed his back, urging him, begging him to slam into her again. He obliged, but only at his pace, making sure she remembered who was in control.

  Tori’s frustration began to surface, no longer wanting to stay in character as they’d agreed. “You’re killing me, dammit! Give me the dick! Fuck!”