“Tell me another lie and I’ll do more than shoot off a finger or two.”
“What do you w-want?” Al says.
“You know damn well what I want,” I say, cocking my head.
He shakes vigorously. “N-no. Please …”
Lunging forward, I grab his head and slam it into the table. “Head, meet table. Table, meet head.” He sputters while I shove his face down a bit more. Rolling my eye, I release him from my grip and sit back down.
I raise my gun and point it at him. “Now, ready to spill?”
He squeals. “N-no, no, please! Do you want money? I can give you money. Anything you want.”
Leaning forward, I pull out a knife from my back pocket and hold it close to his throat. “I don’t want your fucking money, you dipshit. Did you or did you not order us to kill a girl named Jay?”
His eyes widen as he whimpers and gazes at me.
My smile is gone. “Answer me.”
“I didn’t—”
Seizing his arm, I lurch forward and pound his still unscathed hand down onto the table, jamming my knife through it.
He screams in pain and spits out slime. His head looks like it’s about to explode. This man can’t even handle a scratch. Pathetic. Hypocrite too, because he was so eager to hurt another human.
“Shut up,” I say as he keeps on screaming. “Unless you’re into more pain.”
With tears in his eyes he answers. “I didn’t w-want to do it,” he mutters. “I was forced.”
“By who?”
“I don’t know …”
He sniffs and looks at me with big eyes like he’s so fucking innocent. Of course he is. Men like him are despicable. They do something horrible, knowing full well what the consequences are, and still they try to get away with it once someone finds out. Low-life scum of the earth.
Regardless of the fact that he’s a client of the organization and that he’s the one behind the placement of Jay on the hit list, he needs to be punished.
So I pick up my briefcase from the floor and place it down on the table. The locks click, making him jolt in his seat as I open the lid. A variety of toys lie inside: a battery-operated screwdriver, some nails and a hammer, a pair of scissors, a bottle of acid, a flask of non-lethal poison, a short rope, a canister of petrol and some matches, a few of my favorite knives, an icepick, a hook, and a pair of pliers.
I take out the acid and screw open the lid. The man starts to wail. I pay no attention to it. Before he has a chance to get up, I squirt some into his eye. He screams and yelps, blood pouring from his eye as it dissolves.
“My eye!” he yells.
“Ah, who cares? You don’t need your eyes. You have your mouth to tell all those lies for you anyway.”
“Fuck you! You’ll pay for this.” He slams his fist onto the table. Not amused by his threat, I pick up the icepick and hammer and ram it into his hand, pinning him to the table. He screams some more.
“You can scream all you want, but it’s not going to help you.”
“Fuck off!” He lashes out at me from under the table, kicking with all his might. So I put a bullet in his toe.
“Stop fucking moving!”
He screeches some more, causing me to roll my eye and sigh. “Are you done yet?” I ask after a while. “I’m getting bored of you quickly.” I yawn. “You don’t want that to happen, trust me.”
“P-please …” he stammers.
“Tell me who gave you the assignment.”
“I d-don’t know his n-name.”
“Bullshit!” I pick up a knife and jam it into the table beside his fingers. Whimpers escape his mouth.
“It’s t-the truth.”
I narrow my eyes and purse my lips. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes! I s-swear. I d-don’t know his n-name.”
“How did they contact you?”
“It’s in the file.” His eyes dart toward the cabinet across the room. “In the t-top l-left drawer.”
Scooting my chair back, I flick the knife in his hand, causing him severe pain. A smirk appears on my face.
“Don’t move a muscle,” I say, laughing at my own morbid joke.
I walk to the cabinet and open the drawer. Inside is an envelope and the note is still inside.
Taking it out and opening it sends cold shivers down my spine. I knew it. I fucking knew it. It was him, all along.
Crumpling the paper in my hand, I shove it in my pocket and take out a packet of cigarettes and my lighter. “We’re gonna have a long night ahead of us, Al…”
“Passion brings us just as close to insanity as killing does.” – Notes of X
Chapter 14
Jay
Friday, August 16th, 2013. 10:12 p.m.
For the first time in days I slept like a log. My body and mind were so tired they didn’t need more than a few seconds to shut off. I must say that this bed is quite comfortable. This room must be expensive to have all these luxuries. X probably gets all that money from killing people. I wonder if he stays here often or if he moves constantly; if he has a home.
Whatever the case, I won’t find out by dawdling. If I want to discover more about him, worm my way into his heart, I need to please him. As much as it still disgusts me, I know I rely on him to keep me from harm. I saw those guys that tried to kill us … me … they’d kill me in a heartbeat. X hesitated, which means he has double motives. He wants me, and I have to use it against him. Making him desire me is the first step; betraying him is the final step.
Besides, X is going to kill the ones who are after me. I might seem like a cold-hearted bitch, but I’m actually rooting for him. Their deaths mean that X no longer has an excuse to keep me prisoner. My cage is my safety. When the enemy outside has been vanquished, the cage is no longer needed and I will seek my freedom. I think X knows this, so he wants me broken and submissive before he’s finished the job, just to make me stay.
Oh, I will be what he desires … but only until it’s no longer needed, and then I’ll escape.
I get out of bed and open the closet. The cleaning lady placed a stack of fresh clothes there this evening when I was still asleep. I pick up a velvety see-through babydoll and stockings. There’s a matching pair of high heels on the bottom. Rolling my eyes, I put it on and look at myself through the broken mirror in the bathroom. Without makeup I look horrible, but there’s nothing here I can put on except some red lipstick that’s on the shelf. So I pick it up and smear it on my lips. It’s an ugly color, but it’ll have to do. I’ll just have to work my magic to seduce him. Oh, I’ll wind him around my finger. Just wait … he wants a twisted girl? He’ll get a twisted girl.
I take a few sips of water to make sure I’m hydrated enough to be able to go without for a while. I have a hunch I won’t be able to drink for a while when he comes home. Home. Such a funny word. This is not home. I shouldn’t even allow the word to come into my head.
I step back into the hotel room and take a deep breath. In the middle of the floor I sit down on the back of my heels, my hands in my lap. This is a posture I am familiar with, but don’t use often. It’s a sign of submission; something not a lot of men crave, but X is an exception. Waiting for him like this will make him weak for me. At least, I hope.
Patiently I wait until the lock turns and the door is opened. Holding my breath, I look up at him. For a moment he stands in the doorframe, observing me. A hint of surprise flashes in his eye, but it’s quickly replaced by wariness. With soft steps he treads inside and closes the door behind him, his eye still locked on mine. His hands drop beside him. Only then do I spot the red stains on his shirt and hands. His nails are black and crimson and his knuckles are bruised. Oh God. I wonder who he tortured now and why.
I swallow away the fear as he takes a few steps forward. Anticipating his approach, I close my eyes. But his hand never lands on my skin. My breath falters as I open my eyes again only to watch him walk into the bathroom. I turn my head and watch him wash his hands, the cold wa
ter rinsing away the dirtiness. He grabs a scrubbing brush and scrubs his nails and hands with soap. His teeth are clenched, groans of annoyance escaping his mouth as he throws the brush into the sink. I can hear him taking long, deep breaths through his nose. His nostrils flare as he rolls up his sleeves and looks at himself in the mirror. And then he just stands there, watching himself as his hand drifts to his eye and touches his burned skin. For a split second I feel remorse. Pity. But when he shifts his eye to me, it’s gone as quickly as it came.
His heavy steps make my heart thump out of my chest. He looks at me, his eye running over my curves. As he stands in front of me, looking down upon me like some king of the universe, I calm down by reminding myself why I’m doing this. It’s the only way to ever escape his grasp. Make him need me, fall for me, and even love me. And then he won’t be able to deny me my freedom anymore.
Tapping the floor, his feet are right beside me, making me nervous. “What’s this?” he says with a low voice that rumbles through my ears.
“You said I would be safe if I was obedient.”
He cocks his head, a half-smile appearing on his face. “I did say that.”
“And that you wouldn’t hurt me,” I add softly, pinching my own fingers, hoping it’ll be okay.
He starts taking off his tie, each meticulous slip of his fingers making me more uneasy. “Do you want to be punished?” he asks.
“No.”
Suddenly, his hand wraps around my hair, jerking my head up. The roots are pulled so hard it hurts.
“Say that again.”
“No, sir,” I say.
He releases me. “I think you do.”
“No, sir, why would I?” I ask, biting my lip from anxiety.
“You love the pain,” he says, flicking the tie in his hand. “Your pussy loves my hand coming down on your flesh. Don’t you deny it, you whore.”
I shudder at that word.
He leans in, cups my face and purses his lips. “Don’t like that word, huh?”
“I’m not a whore,” I mutter.
“Yes, you are. You don’t fuck for love. You fuck for money. For drugs. For freedom. You’re a dirty little whore.” His finger traces the seam of my lip, pushing further with each stroke until he’s inside. “Suck.”
One look at the gun glinting in its holster is all it takes for me to do as he says. I suck on his finger so hard his eye rolls into the back of his head. I can see his cock growing in his pants. When he takes his finger from my mouth, he grabs my face with both his hands and smashes his lips onto mine. He’s hard and rough as he laps me up like there’s no tomorrow. His licks are furious and fast and uncontrollable. Like a wild beast he takes my mouth. I can barely breathe.
He plunders my mouth with his violent kisses, and I let him. His lips are eager and taste like strong alcohol. They entice me. Even if I don’t want to feel anything, I still do. These lips—I remember them.
He stops as I gasp for air. A wicked smile rests on his face as he wipes his lips with his hand and smears the lipstick across my face. “You’re my little whore.”
After he’s done he stands up again, his pants tented. He walks around me in circles, wrapping his tie around his hand like a boxing glove. It hurts just looking at it. “Face down on the floor,” he commands.
I lower my head and hands, but can’t seem to reach it.
“On. The. Floor.”
I put my hands beside my body and place my head sideways on the floor. I hate this position, because it gives him a full view of me. That, and being face-down on the floor sucks. Somehow the wood smells like cum. I shiver.
“So here you are, waiting to be tamed. Offering yourself freely to me. Begging for my cock.” He pauses. “You’re such a naughty girl, thinking you can seduce me like that. You just want to taunt me into spanking you again. You like having your skin red, don’t you? Did you see the marks on your flesh when you dressed up for me? Did you?” X’s hand comes down on my ass in a swift, hot flash. I squeal in both pain and desire. His hand sets not only my ass on fire, but my pussy too. After the first hit, he gently caresses the cheek before slapping again, this time a little closer to my pussy. When his finger grazes my folds, a short moan releases from deep inside me.
“Answer me.”
“No, sir.” I must admit, I haven’t looked at it in the mirror. I avoided it on purpose. Looking at it makes it real, and when it’s real it hurts, so I refuse.
He makes clacking sounds with his tongue. “We’ll definitely do something about that.”
Whack! I jolt up from the sudden hot flash on my ass. He hit me, but it wasn’t with his hand. As I look up, the tie dangles between his fingers. He used it as a whip.
“Ass up, little bird.”
I push my knees toward my chest, perching my ass up as high as I can. I tell myself I can do this. I can let him take my body without handing over my soul. When the tie hits my pussy, I suspect I won’t be able to. I hiss from the stinging and the tie being slid up and down my sensitive parts. He’s toying with me, and he knows I dislike the thought of surrendering. I’m fighting with him, his mind against mine. This is not a struggle of power; this is a struggle of will. He won’t break me. I won’t allow it.
“Such a wet pussy,” he muses. I can hear him sink to his knees. “It begs to be filled. Would you like that, Jay? Do you want me to fill that pussy?”
I don’t answer, because he wouldn’t like my response.
The smack that follows has my ass shaking. “Say you are a filthy slut, Jay. Say it.”
“I’m a filthy slut,” I mutter.
“Louder.” He jerks the tie from my slit and whacks it on my ass cheek. “I won’t ask again.”
“I’m a filthy slut!”
“I know you are. Your slick hole is waiting to be pumped. Tell me how much you want it. Tell me how badly you want my cock.”
“I want your cock, sir.”
“Hmmm …” He groans. I feel his legs push up against mine, and then his tented pants. His cock pushes against my pussy while he slides the tie through my slit and takes it out. It’s an odd, but gratifying sensation.
“Is this body mine?” he says.
“This body is yours, sir,” I murmur, trying to keep my sarcastic voice at bay.
Splaying his fingers on top off my ass, he spreads my cheeks. “Who does this ass belong to?”
“You.”
The slap that follows stings so badly I squeal and bite my tongue.
“Say that again.”
“You, sir. It’s yours.”
“That’s right, and this pussy is mine too, and do you know what I do with things that are mine?” he says. His fingers hook around my G-string, tugging it down my ass, exposing my flesh. He moans with approval. “I take them and use them for my pleasure.”
Without warning, his finger dips inside my pussy, taking me by surprise. Drawing circles inside, he pushes in and out, heating me up to my core.
“So wet for me …” he murmurs, pushing another finger inside. I feel him inside me, feel him claiming me with his fingers. His other hand grabs a firm hold of my ass as he drives his fingers inside me over and over again. His strokes become increasingly fast, making me delirious with need. I’ve told myself to accept the fact that this is happening; I already made peace with that. I just need to make peace with the fact that I’m actually starting to like it. When I don’t struggle, X is much more lenient, and it becomes much less painful for me to endure. I shouldn’t fight it. I’m in this now … might as well enjoy it.
He retracts his fingers in a flash. For a moment I’m actually disappointed, even though I hate feeling that way. But then he slides his fingers down my folds and finds my clit. I gasp. I think I just died.
“This little clit of yours has been throbbing so badly, hasn’t it?” he says. “It’s swollen and wet for my touch. You want this so badly. Your treacherous body wants me more than you can handle.”
He flicks my nub with fervor. His finger is rough
and big as he puts pressure on it, just the kind I like. He knows exactly how to make me squirm. Especially when he lifts his other hand and slaps my ass again. With each whack, I falter, trying to keep my legs upright, but his hand is still on my privates, supporting me, lifting me up again. With his dexterous finger X keeps stroking me, keeps smacking my ass until it’s numb and tears sting my eyes. He groans at my squeals.
“Don’t come, little bird. If you come, I will punish you. That is not a threat, it’s a promise.”
I’m having trouble staying in the moment. It’s such a mixture of sensations; my clit is being teased until the brink of ecstasy, while my ass is enduring a relentless assault.
Then, all of a sudden, he’s gone. I’m left with wantonness and growing need.
I hear his footsteps as he comes to my face and goes to his knees. Grabbing my hair, he jerks my head and says, “Open your mouth.”
When I do, he stuffs the tie inside.
“Taste yourself, Jay,” he says, licking his lips. “Keep that in there or you’ll be in trouble.” I grumble through the cloth, but it sounds more like gargling. Tasting myself is strange, yet arousing. He steps away again, back to my behind, and I’m left nervous, wondering what he’s going to do now.
When I feel his finger stroke my folds again, I moan. He groans with me as he dips in and out of me, smearing my wetness on my skin. Then he disappears again.
A zipper is pulled. A packet is ripped and thrown aside. Something is rolled out. A condom. “Are you hungry for more, little bird?”
“Yes … oh, God, yes,” I moan feverishly into the tie. I’m lost. Gone from this world. My body has been taken and still I experience pleasure like never before. When the tip of his cock teases my entrance I’m done for.
“Beg for my cock …” he says with a dark, low voice. “Beg for it like your life depends on it.”
It does. My life depends on his satisfaction. I spit out the tie. The words roll over my tongue like sugar. “Please … give me your cock.”
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