Now, they’d finally be used for their intended application — but it wouldn’t be tools he’d be securing.
Making his way back into the house, he tiptoed down the hall, knowing exactly where the creaks in the floor were. He slid the deadbolt on her door silently, easing the door open. She lay motionless, on her back, her hair a tangled mass of silky black. For a moment, he thought she might be sleeping, but when he shut the door, she sprang up with a startled yelp, hugging her knees to her chest, her dark gaze watching him. He pondered what thoughts might be flitting behind those eyes, if she wondered what was going to happen to her next. Lake was sure she had no idea. Truth be told, he wasn’t even sure himself — but the ideas were coming together, and fast.
Her feet were bare, their pale vulnerability fetching in its own confusing way. He liked her vulnerability, because it made him want to exploit it and yet, at the same time, it elicited a twisted urge to protect her.
From himself.
He pointed at her, lifting his finger, beckoning her to stand.
Those dark eyes stared back, unreadable, her arms clutching her knees tighter.
Lake moved closer, standing over her. For a moment, he simply looked down upon her, feeling the excitement build within him at having her so close. Where once she’d irritated him, had made him want to push her away, now it was something else entirely. He hadn’t thought of any of this, of course, back there in that car. The possibilities that stretched before him, her fate determined by a simple choice of paths, by a split second decision. No, when he’d heard DeSalvo speak the words that made had Lake’s blood run cold, there wasn’t time for any of that. There was only time to protect her, to save her.
But was it really to save her? Or was it to keep her for himself? Was he snatching her from the jaws of one monster, only to carry her away to another? Twelve hours ago, he’d have laughed at such a question. But now, as he watched how her body trembled ever so slightly, the way her eyes followed him, their depths keen, unblinking, he wasn’t so sure.
Reaching for her, he eased a palm against her cheek, and she jerked her head away, an angry sound in her throat. He clutched her chin, squeezing, pain clouding her gaze. Tilting her face up to his, he stared into her eyes.
“Ow! What the fu—”
His finger wagged before her, admonishing.
“You’ve proven you’re not worthy of being trusted, Lily. So we’re going to start over at the beginning. First rule: no speaking, unless I ask you a direct question. Nod if you understand.”
“I understand you’re a fucking psycho.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Lake clamped a hand on her upper arm and hauled her off the bed, sending her sprawling. Her legs scrambled for purchase on the carpet as he turned for the door, dragging her by the arm. She was so light, he felt as if he could’ve slipped her right into his pocket if he’d chosen to. But she needed this too, needed to know that physically she was utterly outmatched and that any resistance would entail consequences. Painful ones.
“Let me go!” she yelled as he steadily drew her behind him down the hallway toward the living room. “Jesus, just let me — I’ll follow... Goddammit!”
He opened the front door, and turned back to her.
“You can walk out there, or I can walk you out. It’s your choice.”
“Where are you — where are we going?”
Lake tipped his head toward the front window, and her gaze followed. Seeing what lay beyond, her eyes shot open.
“No. No!” She pulled against his grip, hard. “Not there.”
“Guess there’s my answer.”
Lake hauled her off her feet with ridiculous ease, clutching her tightly in his arms, squeezing a gasp from her as she flailed against him. She cursed, her body twisting within his grip, a trail of hot pain flaming along his neck as her nails raked his skin. He caught her wrist and squeezed until she cried out.
“You’re going to pay for that one too, Lily.”
“Let me go! I’ll do what you want.” Her voice spiraled higher. “No — don’t do it. Please.”
“Oh yes, you’re going all right. You’ve earned it.”
He paused a moment then headed back toward the kitchen, his hand around Lily’s wrist. She pulled hard, slowing him for a moment, then he yanked her forward, and she stumbled after him, her bare feet clapping loudly on the floorboards. He pulled open one of the drawers in the kitchen, the wood screeching in its carriage. He’d need to grease that later, once he’d gotten this over with.
Once he had some peace and quiet.
Rummaging around in the drawer, he pulled out the tape. Using his teeth to unroll a piece, he looked at Lily.
“I’m letting you go for one second. Don’t move or you’re going into that room with a freshly whipped ass.”
“You’ll whip me anyway, you prick.”
“Probably, but it’ll be worse for you if you try it. Don’t, Lily.”
Then he let go, fully expecting her to bolt. Incredibly, she didn’t. Rather, she stood in that kitchen, rubbing her wrist, her gaze shocked, disbelieving, the whites of her eyes showing as she watched him tear loose the piece of duct tape.
Then something seemed to come over her, her eyes narrowing, and she whirled so quickly, she almost slipped out of his reach. His fingers clenched on a handful of her shirt below the nape as she lunged back toward the living room. The ripping sound of the shirt tearing was loud in the small kitchen, and she slowed for only a split second. It was all he needed.
She screeched as his fingers twisted into her long hair and pulled back, her arms wind milling in front of her as he hauled her off balance. She tumbled backward, twisting in his grip, and he dropped down to a knee next to her as she sprawled on the floor, her knee thudding against the floorboard
“Lake! No pl—”
He slapped the tape over her lips, a long lock of hair caught at the corner of her mouth, then flipped her over onto her chest, her gasp a whooshing sound as the impact with the floor knocked the wind out of her. She wheezed, twisting like a landed fish, grunting as he wrapped more tape around her wrists, binding them at the small of her back. She finally sucked in a great gust of air as he yanked her back to her feet, her eyes wild, her words hopelessly muffled by the tape. Her shirt hung askew, torn at the neckline, the upper curve of a breast exposed.
“You could’ve cooperated. But we’ll have it your way instead.” He pointed back into the living room. “Now move.”
She refused to walk, so he caught a fistful of her hair close to her scalp, twisting a little, making her whine, until her feet started to move. He frog-marched her out the front door and into the chilly late afternoon air. She tried to say something, her tone plaintive, but he ignored it, kicking the door to the guest room open and walking her inside. Lily jerked as he slammed the door shut behind them.
He let her see what he’d laid out on the bed before spinning her toward the wall and pushing her against it, his hand splayed between her shoulder blades. She tried to push back, but he pressed more of his weight against her, and she stilled.
“Stop this, Lily,” he growled. “You’re not going to win. Just stop, for Christ’s sake.”
There was a note of exasperation in his voice, even as his cock was a throbbing iron spike in his pants. He didn’t even want to think about why this was turning him on so much.
From one monster to the next. Right, Lake?
She whimpered as he placed the blindfold over her eyes, ensuring it fit snugly, with no gaps. A hood would have worked better, but it wasn’t time for that. Not yet, anyway.
Grasping a fistful of her hair, he swung her around and threw her over the bed, her legs hanging over the side, her bare toes scrabbling against the dusty floor. He inserted a knee between her legs, forcing them apart as he knelt on the mattress, straddling one of her thighs. Plucking the knife from the mattress, he deftly sliced through the tape at her wrists. The metal touched her skin, and Lily froze, a scared
note to the sounds coming from behind the tape.
“Afraid, Lily?” There was no way in hell he’d ever cut her, but she didn’t need to know that, especially if that fear might get her to comply for a change.
I don’t think you want her to comply, Lake. What would be the fun in that? Monster.
He shook his head with a curse, dropping the blade to the mattress again and grabbing the leather cuffs. Wrapping each wrist in the thick leather, he attached the metal snap, linking them securely together behind her back. She yanked against them instantly, her fight not even close to extinguished.
“You’re not getting out of them until I let you out, so you might as well quit. You’ll just tire yourself out.” She squealed, rage in her voice, and Lake shook his head. “Or not.”
Catching each of her waving legs in turn, Lake clasped the delicate ankles in thick leather too, pulling the manacles snug. He’d need to check the circulation in those toes a little later. He let her feet down again, her legs a straight, pleasing line from the edge of the mattress down to the floorboards.
He looked her over a moment, weighing options, what to do next. With the cuffs on, there was no other way. And it might get through to her the way nothing else had thus far.
Lake brought the blade to Lily’s neck, moving aside the mass of her hair, pressing the metal to her skin. She froze instantly.
“You don’t have any other clothes, do you, Lily? Nod for yes, shake your head for no.”
She shook her head slowly.
“Good.”
The blade made quick work of the arms of her blouse, but rather than cut the fabric, Lake indulged his caveman urges and ripped it from the neckline all the way to her waist. He threw the tattered remnants aside, working the sharp knife under the shoulder straps of her brassiere then down the fabric at the clasp before ripping the bra away too, Lily grunted loudly as her body jostled.
“Had you cooperated, you’d still be in the bedroom,” Lake said, the blade slicing through one leg of her jeans, from ankle all the way up and over the swell of her buttock. Then he sliced down from the waist, his fingers brushing against the soft flesh of her ass as the jeans gave way. “Instead, you chose to disobey me again. Now, you’ve lost both your clothing and your freedom.”
I don’t think she’s been free since you kidnapped her, Lake.
Her soft buttocks wobbled as he pulled the destroyed jeans from underneath her, and she whimpered once more. His fingers insinuated under the lace of her thong, and he ripped it from her body, the sound firing his lust once more, the surprised cry from behind the tape making him smile, despite himself.
Then Lake eyed the pillows piled at the head of the bed and the two implements still lying across the mattress next to the rapidly breathing and very naked Lily. The lush, round buttocks had broken out in goose flesh, and he smoothed a palm over them to feel the texture of it, to feel the fright in her trembling flesh. His hand eased between the tightly clenched thighs, fingertips whispering down the thin line between her smooth legs.
His fingers traced over the stiff brown leather of the paddle, tracing the four letters burned into the center of it. He moved to the long, supple leather strap next to it, the end cut into two hard-edged tongues that he knew would bite like fire when wielded with a will. He wondered which one the girl needed, which one he wanted to give her.
And as he stood there adjusting the huge erection twisting in his jeans, he wondered if he’d lost his mind.
* * *
The only sound I heard was that of my own heart beating at a frantic pace, my own breathing loud from inside my chest. The blindfold was wet, and I thought if he took the tape off my mouth, I’d vomit, my throat felt so full, like I was going to choke on fear.
Fear.
I couldn’t stop shaking, my body an earthquake, and when I splayed out my hands to cover my bottom, my fingers brushed his and I pulled them back, adrenaline forcing action from me, forcing me to cry out from behind the tape and try one more time, just once more, to get away from him, even as I knew how hopeless, how pathetic the effort was.
“Now, now, Lily,” he said, gripping my thigh hard enough to hurt while his voice maintained a calm that told me he had a plan, that he’d given this some thought. “You asked for this remember,” he said, setting what I knew to be the strap I’d seen before he had blindfolded me onto my shoulder. The leather was so close to my face, I could smell it, and when he began to drag the weight of it slowly down my back, I did cover my ass with my hands.
“That won’t do at all,” he said.
His hands worked and in a moment, my own were free. Confused, I fought his grip. He let them go for one instant, flipping me onto my back, and when he did, even with my ankles bound, I brought my knees up to fight him, clawing at whatever part of him I could get close to. He made a sound, a grunt, and I knew I’d hurt him at least a little, but I knew at the same time that the hurt he would do to me would be ten times that, a hundred times.
Pushing my legs flat, he straddled me and my wrists were quickly re-bound in the cuffs. I stopped then, out of breath, out of fight and he patted my face, saying something I didn’t quite hear. I squeezed my eyes shut thinking he might slap me but he didn’t. Instead, I was flipped back over onto my stomach, but this time, he took my arms and stretched them toward the headboard and I heard something click into place. When his hands left mine, I tugged only to find myself trapped, the cuffs locked to something either against the headboard or the wall, I didn’t know which. He pulled me down toward the foot of the bed and my legs dangled off until they too were linked and I was effectively stretched, my legs half on the bed, half off.
The bed creaked when he stood. “There,” he said, still somehow calm. I imagined him standing back, watching me, taking in every naked inch of my bound, stretched body.
My own breathing came fast then as the full realization of my vulnerability dawned on me. I think I was trying to beg then. Tears were coming fast and I pleaded for him not to hurt me, begged his forgiveness from behind the tape.
“What’s that, Lily?” he asked, tugging the pillows out from under my arms and pressing them beneath my hips, lifting my ass higher. “I’m sorry. I can’t quite understand you.”
His words seemed to come from some distant place. I was so caught up in what I knew was coming, what I knew there was no way out of. I wanted to go back to that little bedroom. My room. I wanted out of here.
“What did you say?” he asked again.
He patted the strap against my ass, taking aim. I pulled ankles and wrists, frantic to free myself, managing to push the blindfold askew at least off one eye. I looked ahead at the dark wall through the metal rungs of the headboard, saw the ring he’d clipped the cuffs to. I turned my head in time to see him swing his arm hard, his eyes on mine as I screamed from behind the tape when the leather seared a stripe of pure fire across my ass.
“How’s that, Lily?” he asked, patting the strap against my ass again.
Another scream before he even struck, the pain forcing tears from my eyes. I’d never felt anything like this before. This pain was unreal.
He didn’t wait this time, laying another punishing stroke down at the juncture between my bottom and my thighs. I tensed every muscle, squeezing my legs together, clenching my buttocks tight. Another stroke, this one dead center.
“You know what?” he asked, pausing, coming toward me, the weight of one knee depressing the mattress by my face. “I think,” he began as he adjusted the blindfold over my eyes once more, “I might like to hear the sound of your screams.” He pulled the tape painfully from my mouth, causing more hot tears from my eyes.
“Please, Lake. Please...”
“You don’t have to beg me, honey,” he said, moving behind me again. “I know what you need.”
I heard the sound of the strap coming this time and clenched everything tight in anticipation, but it didn’t diminish the pain, not even a little. My scream filled the room and I hadn’t quite
absorbed the sound of it before another stroke burned my ass.
I was going to die. He was going to kill me. I was convinced of it as stroke after stroke fell covering the whole of my bottom, the tops of my thighs. He seemed untiring while I screamed until I had nothing left, no voice, no breath, only pain, absolute pain.
If he thought he hadn’t made his point, he was dead wrong.
“That’s it,” he said, a hand slapping my ass hard, the different sensation causing me to jump to attention. “Lie there and take your punishment. Ten more.”
“Please. It’s enough. I promise I’ll be good. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” The blindfold was drenched and I wiped my face against my arm. Sweat covered me, the heat of my punished flesh degrees hotter than anything else.
He rubbed my bottom, his touch almost soft as he covered both mounds. I thought he’d changed his mind. I thought, as I listened to his breathing calm, that he took pity on me, that it was over. But then he stopped rubbing and stepped back.
“Count them.”
My sobbing took on a whole new meaning then. He wouldn’t stop, not until he’d delivered every last one of those ten strokes and it wouldn’t matter what I said, how much I cried or begged, how raw he whipped my ass. He would do this; there would be no mercy. Not today, not any day. Not with him. He was teaching me.
I shuddered as the first of the final ten landed.
“Lily,” he urged, drawing out the way he said my name. “I’ll keep going until you count.”
“One!”
“Good girl. Now keep your ass nice and soft for me. Relax your muscles. Soft. That’s it. Be good.”
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