Scrutinising the doors I noticed one with a lock upon it, which was obviously the bathroom. It was possible she'd locked herself in there, but ultimately futile. The lock could be undone with a screwdriver, so unless she intended to stay awake twenty-four-seven, eventually I was going to get my hands on her. If she'd picked a bedroom she might have found something to prop under one of the doors, which might make my life difficult for an hour or two, but I didn't see it as being a problem. A chest of draws or a chair wasn't going to keep me out for long.
Opening the first door in front of me, feeling it was unlikely she'd have chosen the one nearest to the stairs, I was unsurprised to find it empty. It was a generous double room that had seen one of London's top interior designers, judging by the amount of gold gilt and mirrors splashed around the place. I sighed. One down, three to go.
Creeping along the carpeted hallway, I opened door number two as quietly as I could. This time it was a single room, decked out in an array of autumnal colours and suede, and just as empty as the one before. I was getting closer to my prey.
The next room was the bathroom, and I already had a sneaking suspicion that was where she'd be. She'd feel safe with a lock and better yet, she'd have running water and a toilet to hand if she ever decided to let her hand stray off the door handle. Sure enough when I grabbed the lever and pressed down there was resistance. I smiled grimly.
'Out you come, precious. You have an appointment with a monster.' Was it fair to scare the shit out of her this early? Probably not, but we were playing by my rules, and I wouldn't mind a bit of fear in her eyes when I finally managed to break her free from her self-made prison.
'Fuck you.' The snarl was venomous. I smiled to myself. At least that meant she had a bit of fight left in her. This was going to be more fun than I thought. I almost rubbed my hands together in glee.
'You might be if you play your cards right, but to be honest I doubt it.' I had no intention of having sex here tonight. I had people for that. Scrap that - I had lots of people for that; nice people who didn't sell their boss out to the highest bidder.
There was a bang and the sound of something crashing. I resisted the urge to laugh out loud. My victim was a fiery little thing, but I was fairly confident I could tame her within a few hours. Everyone could be tamed when given the right incentives, I found.
'I'm going to count to three and if you're not out of the bathroom and kneeling on the floor at my feet I am going be at least twice as annoyed as I am now, and that's not going to be pretty. When my stress levels get worked up I tend to play nasty.' I emphasised the word 'nasty' for good measure. 'One, two… three.'
Standing in the hallway, watching the door do absolutely nothing, I think I was offended for a minute. I knew the woman didn't know who I was, but my tone of voice was usually enough to have them sobbing at my feet and begging for forgiveness. It appeared I was going to have to work on that.
Frowning, I decided I'd better go with plan two, which was to find a screwdriver and undo the door latch. There were only four screws to the design, so the good news was it wasn't going to take long.
'I'm not kneeling for any of you bastards ever again.' Her voice was softer now, and a hiccup accompanied the last word. It sounded like she might have started crying. It was an interesting approach to the dilemma she currently found herself in, but it wasn't going to work on me. Tears turned me on.
'Suit yourself, but don't say I didn't warn you.' Turning, I walked back down the stairs and retrieved my holdall from where I'd left it in the kitchen. It just so happened there was a screwdriver in there, which should suit my purposes perfectly. I hadn't intended on doing any D.I.Y when I brought it with me, but it paid to come prepared. Bothering the security guard with trivialities this early in the game was the sign of an amateur, and I couldn't let my reputation be sullied thus.
Marching loudly up the stairs again I wasted no time in unscrewing the tiny screws that held her very insecure prison together. It didn't take her long to realise what was happening.
'You can't do that!' She'd gone from being sullen and venomous, to outraged. I wasn't entirely sure if that was progress, but I was shortly going to find out.
'I think you'll find I can, precious.' Already having managed to remove two screws, the project was already half completed. Now I just had to hope that the bathroom contained no dangerous weapons, or furniture that could be used to wedge the door shut. I was in no mood for further complications. Although some frantic scrabbling about was going on in there I didn't let it deter me from my task. The sooner I let her know who was boss, the better.
When the last screw dropped into my hands I simply pulled the door handle off and used the back of the screwdriver to force the remaining portion back into the bathroom. Surprisingly there was no resistance, which made me a little suspicious, but then I'm a suspicious kind of guy. Swiping the latch mechanism out of my way, I used the screwdriver to lever the door open and was almost surprised when it moved with no further obstructions. She couldn't have given up this easily, could she? How very disappointing. As the door slowly moved inwards I cast my gaze forwards, but before it had time to focus on anything of note there was a blurred mass of bright colours and dark hair, and it was intent on heading my way. Sidestepping neatly I was intent on letting her pass without allowing her too close to my person. Whilst the idea was a good one, somehow she still managed to get a swipe at me and I felt something sink into my forearm. Something sharp and unpleasant. Whilst I would have loved to have the time to examine it the woman was rushing headlong down the stairs, and if she wasn't careful she was about to break her neck. Sure enough she tripped midway, and had I not been right behind her there was a good chance she would have broken a few bones.
Pulling her sharply into my body, the first thing I noticed was her hair. She was a brunette. There was no way she could have been one of Mark's girls. What was he playing at now? The second thing was that she smelled like honeysuckle and vanilla, and it had me taking another breath just so I could fill my lungs with the incredible scent. I frowned. How odd. Perfume didn't usually have this effect on me. Maybe I was losing my touch.
'Whilst I'm happy to break a bone or two of yours later, I'd prefer you didn't do it so early in the game. I don't want you passing out on me until I'm ready.' She immediately tried to pull away from me but I was ready for her, and my iron grip on her shoulders didn't falter.
'Are you usually this articulate with women, or does it take years of practise?' she snarled.
I'll admit I was a little affronted. So far it was she who had done me a grievous injury and not the other way around. Don't get me wrong; I intended to rectify the situation soon, but still… Glancing at my forearm, now that I'd adjusted my balance to compensate for her weight, revealed that a three-inch stainless steel nail file had been embedded in my flesh. It wasn't as deep as it could have been, because she had been more intent on getting away from me, but it didn't look particularly pretty.
'Say "sorry".' I used my sternest tone, and that usually got results in my world.
'Fuck you.' The emphasis on the word 'you' was quite heavy. I sighed.
'We've already been over this. Now I was quite prepared to be civilised, but if you want to act like a child I'm fully prepared to do this the hard way.' She had no way of knowing exactly what my brand of 'civilised' was, but annoying me was certainly a mistake. She'd discover that soon enough.
Grabbing her by the hair I dragged her the rest of the way downstairs. Although she kicked, struggled, and lashed out like a Thai kickboxer she didn't manage to get too close to me. It seemed the best possible action for all concerned was to get her in heavy restraints as soon as possible. That way she wouldn't be able to hurt herself and, more importantly, she wouldn't be able to hurt me.
So, manhandling her to the best of my abilities, I led her to the bottom of the stairs and then back towards the kitchen where I had reliably been informed there were some more stairs that led to the basement. Thankful
ly this was indeed correct, and bar a few swift kicks to my shins and an elbow in the ribs, we got there just about in once piece. I say just about, because I was going to have a handful of Marianna's hair in my hand when we stopped. This was entirely her fault. If she'd played nicely on the journey down I wouldn't have had to yank it so damn hard.
The lights down in the basement operated by motion detection, which was especially useful as my hands were being kept busy fending the little hellcat off. When we got to the bottom I somehow managed to open the metal handle of a frosted glass door, before marching us both inside. I was a little worried of what I was going to find at first, but sure enough all the right equipment greeted me, and the X-frame in the corner looked particularly appealing. Alas I was alone in my appreciation of the room. The woman in front of me had suddenly sprouted feet of lead and was virtually immovable. So she could talk the talk, but she couldn't walk the walk. I rolled my eyes. Picking her up, with one hand just above her backside and the other under her legs, I deposited her next to the frame, and before she'd had time to figure out what I was doing I had two of her hands in cuffs at the top of her head and the rest, as they say, was history.
'What's your name?' After I'd finished restraining her I grabbed a utilitarian black plastic chair and pulled it alongside her. My ass was going to be dead in little over half an hour, but it would be a mild inconvenience compared to the state I intended to have her ass in by the time we'd finished. Waiting patiently for an answer to my question, I wasn't all that surprised when none was forthcoming.
'Fine. If that's the way you want to play it I'll call you Brian for the purposes of this exercise.' That would piss her off and entertain me no end. I smiled inwardly.
'So Brian, what made you turn on your ex boss? I'm going to throw in a wild guess here and say revenge. You're not a blonde, he probably didn't have sex with you, and you were pissed at being ignored for a couple of years. Am I right?'
The woman just seemed to have realised that she was completely restrained and at my mercy, for she then rattled and banged about a bit. I was in no hurry, so I waited for the tantrum to pass.
Raising my voice to compensate for all her noise I said, 'It's tough going without sex for a couple of years. At least, I guess it must be tough. It's not a theory I've tested personally. I'm betting you're not used to being ignored.' The woman in front of me was an absolute stunner. I couldn't imagine she would be happy being left in the corner for long.
'We had sex.' The words were bitten out and resentful, but this was progress and highly interesting to my ears.
'You did? I find that hard to believe. I don't think you have the correct hair colour.'
The rattling stopped for a moment and my ears stopped ringing.
'I didn't. His new wife gave him an itch that he couldn't quite scratch and I was an entertaining interlude.'
Detecting more resentment and bitterness I decided to press my advantage. 'So you sold him out because you were jealous? Millionaires seem to have a profoundly interesting effect on the female population, I've found. They immediately induce thoughts of wedding bells and babies. Oh, and let's not forget the American Express Platinum card. Call me cynical. Were you put out you weren't going to go down the aisle, precious?'
When she didn't answer I rephrased my questions, placing plenty of emphasis on the words jealous and aisle. When another minute went by without a sound I got the impression that our friendly chat was over.
'Fine. It's about time I got you out of those clothes, so it's probably best if the chitchat ends now,' I said. Realising I'd left my holdall, with all the tools of the trade I would shortly be needing back up by the bathroom, I turned my back on Miss World 2017, and tried to concentrate on the job at hand. It wasn't as easy as it should have been.
Chapter Eleven - Mark
The coven filed in all around me, and I remembered why I called them the witches. They loved black. Leather, latex, lace and silk, it was all black, with the odd splash of purple or red for effect. All of the women were openly grinning or smiling, and the thought of tormenting me was clearly turning them on, judging by the glazed looks of lust I saw surrounding me.
'I've warmed him up for you, ladies, but feel free to make sure I've done the job properly.' Sophia moved around my body, her fingers pressing upon the fiery red flesh of my ass, but I was damned if she was getting a sound out of me with this lot about. They'd have to try a lot harder if they wanted to make me scream.
'I see you've locked him up tight, Sophia. Excellent work. His pathetic little thing is straining for attention. Must be the sight of all of these incredibly beautiful women before him.'
Firstly, it is not pathetic, lady, and secondly you overestimate your collective attractiveness, I thought. Wisely, I kept my mouth shut. A few of them strode over to examine Sophia's handiwork, digging their fingernails deeply into my sensitised flesh. The amount of adrenaline inside me had doubled at their entry, so I felt everything very keenly. Then there was some hair pulling, some slapping, and nearly every single one of them laughed as they poked and prodded my cage. This went on for quite some time, but to be honest this was tame compared to what was coming next, so I kept quiet.
'Is it time for the first game yet?' This excited request came from Bubbles. I have always called her that, though I was aware her name was Naomi. Her nickname was due to the mass of tight black curls she wore on top of her head. Today they were trapped in an interesting cone-shaped contraption in a garish shade of neon pink. I couldn't help but wonder if she was colour blind.
One of Sophia's male staff chose that moment to deliver a drinks trolley, and thankfully that distracted them for a moment or two, as coffee, tea, wine and spirits were being liberally dished out. I could have done with a large whisky myself, but I needed to keep my wits about me.
'Yes, Sophia, do tell,' said Nicola, waving around her Aperol Spritz. Great, Sophia was giving them fizz. They'd be even crazier than usual in a few minutes.
'Why so impatient, girls? We've got him for the evening. Hold your horses.' Sophia smiled evilly as the attention turned to me yet again.
I swore I was going to hunt every single last one of them down and make sure they all paid for this unwanted humiliation. I could probably send a few of them bankrupt if I tried hard enough. You asked for this, I reminded myself. Yes, but I didn't ask for this. Well, not exactly, anyway.
Picking up the jar she had set down beside me earlier, Sophia rattled the thing again, but I was too far away to see it properly, and I certainly wasn't moving anywhere until someone found a key for the padlock. Watching as she unscrewed the top off the thing, she then passed it around for the amusement of all the ladies assembled. I had no idea what was so funny, but I was sure I was shortly going to find out. Watching carefully, I saw them bring the jar up to their noses and take a good sniff. Inwardly I winced. What was in that damn jar?
'Will it hurt?' snickered Bubbles.
'Oh, I do hope so. There's nothing I enjoy more than watching a man writhe in pain,' said Dahlia, one of the older girls. She meant it, too. I'd seen her in action more than once, and if I thought I was brutal on occasion, I had nothing on that woman.
Sophia looked around her little gathering and smiled. 'Eventually it will hurt, but we'll start with a slow burn. My little pet is a bit out of practice, as I'm sure you're aware.' There was more laughter.
'I wonder if his wife has taught him any new tricks yet,' said Fiona, whose poor husband always looked on the verge of death whenever I saw him. Mind you, if I was married to Fiona I suspect I'd look like that too.
'You'll have to ask him,' Sophia purred. 'Now, who wants to let him out and watch him crawl?'
Unfair. I wasn't a big fan of crawling and I had no wish to do so for their entertainment. I was hardly going to fight them though. There were at least fifteen women in the room with me now, and unless I was much mistaken I was going to be in chains or restraints for most of the evening, which meant I would do whatever they told me t
o, or suffer the consequences. Thankfully I had no time to dwell on my woes because there was a chorus of 'yes please' from nearly everyone in the room, all of whom were anxious to see my naked ass wiggling about.
The key was passed to Scarlett, appropriately named for her overuse of red lipstick, and she took her time sashaying my way. If she had meant to be provocative she was wasting her time on me. If someone saw fit to bring Jen back to life, I promised that from then on in I would be a one-woman man. Christ! Had I really just said that? Oh shit, I had.
'My poor baby. Are you all trapped and locked up inside that little cage?' Scarlett cooed at me as if I was three years old. I did not appreciate it. I hoped she could tell by the sardonic look in my eyes. Could someone just whip the fuck out of me, dammit? I needed a fast-forward button to get past all this crap. She sniffed when I ignored her.
'He's not very polite,' she moaned in the general direction of the hostess.
'I've already told you he's out of practise. If you're unhappy with his behaviour there's a flogger or a paddle for adequate attitude adjustment. Feel free to use either.'
'How about the Cat?' Scarlett asked, deciding to go straight for the jugular. She was my kind of lady.
'My, what a greedy girl you are, Scarlett. No, not the Cat. We're saving that for later, so you'll just have to be patient.' Sophia turned her attention back to Bubbles and continued her conversation, obviously uncaring as to what happened to me. To be fair, she knew I could handle myself. She also knew I was pissed off, so had probably decided to wait until I was a little more… malleable. Well, that was going to take some time.
Scarlett pouted as her toy of choice was refused, but brightened when she caught sight of the rubber flogger. 'Oh,' she squeaked, 'this will do nicely.' She then started flinging the thing around.
On the plus side, I had a reason to be grateful that Scarlett was one of Slimming World's finest advocates, because whilst she had an amazing hourglass figure and exceptionally long, willowy legs, she didn't have any strength behind her swing. Sophia worked out almost every day and had a personal trainer at her beck and call. The difference between the two lady's strokes was impressive. I could probably withstand this kind of mild irritation for days.
The Velvet Caress Page 8