"You can't what, Harper? What is it you can't do?" She just shakes her head at me and sobs harder. This should please me. Perhaps this means I'm getting through to her at long last. I wait patiently, but her sobs only get louder. She's not going to give me an explanation. This is yet another dead end. I swear smoke is about to come out of my ears.
I don't bother asking her to obey me a third time. The fact that she got asked a second time was a near miracle in itself. Being gentle with her has had no more effect than the rough treatment, and if I'm honest, I much prefer the latter.
Grabbing her arm I pull her towards me. She's dressed in one of my T-shirts, which is so big on her it reaches mid-thigh. I let her get away with that yesterday because I was too tired to argue, but today we're going back to basics. If I have to go down Gabriel's route to get what I want, so be it. I'm done playing Mr Nice Guy. Yanking the T-shirt up over her head I throw it to the back of the room, and watch as her eyes explode on sticks. Yep, she didn't think much of that. At least she's paying attention now. Gripping a fistful of her hair I sit on the bed and tug her body down at the waist. Yelping out loud she loses her balance and lands heavily on my legs. Hallelujah. I'm not losing my touch after all.
"If you want to sit there and sob, then we might as well give you a reason to sob, huh, Little Liar?" I don't wait for her to respond. I'm done with that. I simply let my hand fly and somewhere inside me there's a satisfied roar as it connects sharply with the soft flesh of her ass. I love that sound. The hard thwack as my palm slams into her backside, over and over again, is music to my ears. My cock suddenly revs into high gear, and the bulge in my shorts is frighteningly painful as I rain down war upon the girl. It feels good. It feels too good. If I'm not careful this will lead to something I might later regret. I can't think about that now. It's probably going to happen sooner or later, anyway. Why should I keep denying myself the pleasure of her body? The woman owes me five years of pain and misery. I intend to tear the same amount of agony out of her, one way or another.
It takes me a little while to find my rhythm, but when I find it I settle down for the ride. Harper is going to feel this for at least the next week. I'm going to make sure of it. When the first five or six spanks rain down she is too shocked to utter a sound, but it doesn't take her long to find her voice. I am spreading fire all over her pert little butt cheeks, and they're turning a very pleasant shade of red. I could look at those sweet little globes all day and not get bored, and the good news is that if I want to, I can.
"Oh God," Harper whimpers, as my hand continues its journey of ass destruction, and make no mistake, that's exactly what I'm doing. I am going to destroy them. I'm not stopping until she's a sobbing, broken mess, begging for my forgiveness. I'm not even sure I'll stop then. My anger has once again turned into rage and I'm trying to deal with the fallout.
"Jesus, Brandt," she yells, as my hand slams into her harder and harder. I don't care. She can yell all she likes. She knows how to put a stop to this. I'm not letting her up until I have my explanation.
"Why, Harper?" That's the question that continues to confound me. Why, why, why? I punctuate each of those 'why's with a heavy thud which makes her whole body shudder. As the third one detonates on her backside she lets out a little scream.
"Stop it, Brandt! Please stop it!"
I do no such thing. I'm just getting started. Instead my hand begins to pepper her ass with sharp swats that will let the burn intensify. I know she's feeling it. I can see her body strain to try and avoid each new and devastating blow. But while she's still wriggling and squirming I haven't done my job properly. I want her sobbing and unable to lift a single finger because she's too exhausted to do so. At that point, with any luck, she'll be ready to obey every single word I say the moment I say it. Harper needs to fear me, and I'm going to make sure she does.
She isn't an easy girl to crack, though. She fights me for the longest time, shouting all sorts of obscenities. I ignore them all, even though my eardrums are ringing, and keep swatting my hand down. I don't let up, not even for a second. She is going to remember this.
After a good half hour, when I'm beginning to wonder if she'll ever give in, the violent struggling finally stops and the wailing begins. My hand is stinging like a bastard, but even so I continue with my tirade of slaps.
She's still pleading with me, but now she can barely speak because she's sobbing hysterically. Her abused backside is a mess of angry red blotches and it looks like a raw piece of meat. She won't be able to wear any clothes for a few days, that's for certain.
Satisfied that I've made my point clear, I finally stop. I push Harper gently down my legs, so I can stand up and get the hell out because if I don't, I'm about to fuck her into next year.
"Please," she whimpers in a little voice, which reeks of despair. "Please." The woman grabs my legs as if I'm her fucking saviour. Is she looking for forgiveness? If so, she won't get it here.
I should be revelling in the sweet sound of her misery, but I'm torn. Half of me knows I need to be the abhorrent bastard I became in prison in order to fight fire with fire, and the other half of me just wants to wrap my arms around her and tell her everything will be okay. The two do not sit well with each other. I think I'm slowly losing my marbles.
"I've stopped, Harper. You can get off me now." Clearly the girl has no idea which way is up after what has just happened, and to be fair, I did go a special kind of crazy on her ass.
"No. Please let me..." Her voice dies on the last word. Please let me what? Are we back to Gabriel again? Maybe it was going to be a 'please take me with you'. There's no way she's keeping up with me on a ten-kilometre run. That's a whole different kind of pain, and she's probably suffered enough for one morning.
"Please let me what?" I say, sighing, my curiosity getting the better of me.
Harper hangs her head over my legs, and I catch the side of her face, which is scarlet. She's embarrassed? Mind you, being thrown over someone's legs and receiving a sound spanking has got to be pretty humiliating, I guess, so it figures.
"Please let me come," she whispers.
I lean back and suck in a breath. Now that, I had not been expecting. She finds being spanked that hard arousing? Holy hell, she was in tears not moments ago.
"Say that again." I need confirmation that what I'm hearing is correct because I'm pretty sure I just imagined it.
"Please let me come," she moans, squirming underneath me once more. "I'm so aroused my body's going into meltdown." Rubbing her groin against my leg she begins to hump me like an animal, and I put a stop to it by giving her another sharp spank. She lets out a whoosh of air in shock, and her body stiffens.
Now I know Harper likes pain, but the amount I dished out was extreme. I find it hard to believe anyone could find that arousing. So, I do what any red-blooded male would do given the circumstances - I check. Placing my hand gently between her legs, I run my fingers over her sex. They immediately slide into wet heat. Jesus. She is turned on. This is so fucking hot my head might explode. Placing two fingers at her entrance I slide forward carefully, but there's no need. She is absolutely soaked, and she groans out loud to confirm it. The sound makes my cock want to leap out of my pants. I need to calm myself down. This wasn't the idea of the exercise.
"Please Brandt, please," she whimpers.
In the end I can't help myself. I run two fingers up and down her clit, flicking the little nub back and forth. Her sweet whimpers do funny things to my insides. Grabbing a handful of her hair once more, I pull her face up so I can see her expression. While it's still beetroot red, her eyes are glazed and her pupils dilated. She's most definitely enjoying herself.
Dipping my fingers back inside her, I get them nice and wet before coming up to play with her again. This time I let my index finger circle her clit, feeling it swell. I know I'm going to regret this, but I can't help myself. Alternating between fingering her pussy and her clit, I bring her slowly to the edge. I know when she's close because he
r breathing hitches, and she makes funny little mewling noises. I'm just as close as she is. One rub in the right place and I'm pretty sure I'd embarrass myself, but that's not going to happen. This little episode was never about pleasure. It was about showing her who's boss, and I'm about to do so again. I give her clit one last little pulse with my fingertips, and then I withdraw them. Pushing Harper to the floor at my feet, I keep a firm hand on her neck to make sure she stays down. This time she has no option but to go where I put her.
Grabbing her leash from the drawer, I clip it around the D-ring in her collar and tug. She lets out a furious little shriek and stumbles forward.
"You even think of getting up on those legs and I'll get the paddle out." I mean it, too. My mood, which was bad enough to begin with, has taken a nosedive. I need a long hot shower, and plenty of fist action before I'll start to feel halfway normal, and even then I suspect I'll still be left wanting. Why don't I just give in to this attraction? Why do I keep fighting it?
"Brandt, I just want..." I cut her off immediately. Unless she's about to tell me her life story, and how it led to me spending five years of my life in the clink, I'm not interested.
"Say another word and I'll gag you. I don't think you'll want that. If I can't hear your screams when Gabriel gets inside your little cell, no one is going to come running for you." That's a horrible thing to say, and as soon as it's left my mouth I regret it. The deed is done, though, and there's no taking it back. Still, perhaps she'll be a little more pliable by the time I return. Gabriel is almost sure to spend the time winding her up. Maybe that will work in my favour. Hmm. It's an idea.
Almost dragging her down the stairs by the neck, I storm into the hallway, nearly crashing into Harper's arch enemy. Gabriel smirks, but neatly sidesteps the pair of us, openly ogling Harper's naked body. She immediately shrinks back against me, trying to stay well out of his way.
"Are you caging your little pet before you leave, Brandt?" Gabriel raises his eyebrows and grins menacingly at Harper. If I know my friend well, he'll want to get his own back after his near-death experience, and he doesn't normally play fair. He's not doing it while I'm not here, though.
"If you touch her while I'm gone I'll make what Harper did to you yesterday seem like child's play. In fact, if you touch a hair on her head you'll be kicked out of this house, and you can find your own way back..." I'm ready to blow up in his face when he interrupts me.
"I get it. I get it." He holds his hands up in surrender and smiles sweetly, but I know that is no indication that he intends to play nice. I don't think he'll fight me on this because he knows I'll do exactly what I say, and this whole situation intrigues him. I also think he's holding out for a threesome. That's the kind of thing that would set his kinky little mind into overdrive. That's one of the reasons I fell in love with him. He's just as dark and twisted as I am, if not more so. Together we'd make mincemeat of any poor girl who was stupid enough to get caught in our clutches.
"I'll play nice while you're gone. Well, I won't touch her, anyway. When you get back though, I make no promises. You're in charge of protecting your princess, so you'll just have to make sure you do a good job of it." He grins wolfishly at me. The man is feral.
"We'll discuss what you are and aren't allowed to do when I get back from my run. Until then, hands off. We clear?" He holds his hands in the air and waggles his fingertips at me. He's got the message.
Yanking at Harper's leash I make a move to walk past him, but he stops me. It's not me he wants to talk to though, it's Harper.
"I'll pop in to check on you later, sweetheart. I wouldn't want you to get lonely while Brandt's out." He pats her head and gives her a wink. She flinches visibly and crawls forward at breakneck speed, tugging me along behind her.
"Behave yourself," I yell to Gabriel over my retreating back, but he's laughing so hard he probably can't hear me. I'm going to have to get rid of him quickly, but that might not be as easy as it sounds. If I give him what he wants, then he might just leave of his own accord, but I'm not sure I can do that. Lord. Could this situation get any more complicated?
When we go down the stairs the scent of urine permeates the damp air in a very unpleasant way. I'm trying my best not to breathe it in, and I'm pretty sure Harper's trying to do the same. The fridge and its sawn-off plug have already been removed and disposed of. I don't think we need a repeat of that little episode. In future, I need to be a little more careful with my prisoner.
When we walk inside the cell Harper stops dead at the puddle on the floor. I can't say I blame her; I wouldn't want to step in it either.
"There's a bucket of soapy water over there," I say, pointing to the corner in which a large black rubber bucket resides, almost overflowing with soap bubbles. It was hot half an hour ago, but probably only lukewarm now. At least she won't be able to scald herself with it. "There's a scrubbing brush inside. While I'm gone I want you to scrub the entire floor. You made the mess, so you can clear it up. Failure to do so will be met with punishment." We stare at each other, so she knows I mean business. "Speaking of punishments," I say, "you are still owed one for not obeying me earlier."
She blinks and frowns. "But I thought the spanking..." her sentence tails off as I glower at her.
"That was only part of your punishment," I growl. "I'm removing the duvet for the course of this evening. If you get cold you'll have to jump up and down. On the plus side, it'll give you something to do because I have a feeling you won't be getting much sleep down here today." Picking up the thick wad of material in my arms, I begin walking towards the door.
"No, Brandt, please. Anything but that. I'm naked. Gabriel will be down here as soon as you leave. You can't leave me like this." Harper's voice is rising hysterically, but I'm already closing her cell door, listening for the tell-tale click of the lock.
"If you want to stop this at any time you know exactly what you have to do," I say, but my back is already turned towards her and my feet are jogging up the steps in front of me. I know she won't talk. I haven't cracked this woman yet, but I will. Maybe Gabriel is right. Maybe I should threaten to let him loose on her. I know she's scared of him, and she has every right to be. He'd fuck her up in a heartbeat. The trouble is, I can't make a threat and then not carry it out. If I threaten her with it, I have to go through with it. Could I watch those two together and somehow remain impassive? I don't think so. I think the green-eyed monster would rear its ugly head and eat me alive.
Am I in love with Harper? Is Gabriel right? He can't be. There's no way you'd want to destroy the woman you love, and I want to tear that woman to bits until she can't even utter her own name. I hate her with a passion that is all-consuming and fucking scary.
A nagging voice inside my head tells me there's a very fine line between love and hate, but I stubbornly ignore it.
Chapter 9 - Harper
When I hear the sound of the cell door clanging against metal I want to strangle Brandt, but luckily for him, he's already out of my reach. He thinks we're playing a game, but nothing could be further from the truth. I'm not even sure he believes a word I've told him so far. Yesterday I thought I might be getting through to him, but today it looks like we're back to where we started.
Actually, it's worse, because now I have his 'friend' to deal with.
With Gabriel in mind I grab the bucket and scrubbing brush and begin to wash the floor. As I get down on my knees I hiss as the tender skin on my ass stretches. Damn, that hurts. When Brandt decides to take me to task he does it properly, that's for sure. I'm still furious with myself for being aroused from his mistreatment of me. But at least I can take some of my anger out on the task, and I begin scrubbing furiously, trying my best to keep the tears at bay. I know I need to get this done as soon as possible so I can hide behind my mattress, which is the only thing in the cell that will be able to provide me with any type of cover. Gabriel will be down to gloat and start lobbing threats at me soon. He'll be telling me exactly what he's going to do to me
later, and I can only imagine the things he's capable of. Anyway, the less time I'm crawling around naked, the better.
Moving as quickly as I can I get half the cell done in less than five minutes. My eyes are trained on the steps above at all times, and my ears are listening for the sound of footsteps on stone. I intend to make a run for it when that happens, but I'm worried that if I don't clean from top to bottom Brandt will come up with another punishment on his return, and I don't think I can take any more.
Thankfully I get the whole floor done in record time with no interruptions, and then make a little barricade on the steel bed, positioning the mattress in front of me. Gabriel can do what he likes now, I don't care.
Several minutes pass, and nothing happens. It's almost as if I've been worried about nothing and it's a bit of an anti-climax, if I'm honest. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to be molested, but I've psyched myself up for this for nothing. Oh well, at least my blood pressure will get a good workout.
I sit alone with my thoughts for all of twenty minutes before I become horribly bored. Now that the cell has been stripped of everything, including the iPad, iPod and books he left me before, it seems even more unwelcoming and bare. I wonder how long he intends to leave me here like this. Hopefully, only a night. Still, I'm no stranger to sleepless nights. I've had plenty of those in the last few years. Speaking of sleep, I guess I'd better get a couple of hours in where I can.
When the dreams come they are covered in black, inky despair and soul-destroying fear. I am never free of their grasp for long.
Mal has nearly strangled me to death, not once, but several times. His hands are continuously circling my throat as he watches me fight for my life. Bringing someone close to death excites him. Maybe it's because he feels he holds the ultimate power over me, or maybe he's just a sick fuck, but he clearly enjoys toying with his victims. When he's finally finished he leaves me on the bed fighting for breath while I come down from my orgasm high. But having an orgasm doesn't make up for the monstrous sex I've just endured, and my pulse is thundering through my body, wondering what the hell just happened. I can't take another one of those. My throat is so sore after all that squeezing I can barely talk - even opening my mouth hurts. My head is woozy, dizzy and disorientated. I couldn't get up off the bed, even if I wanted to.
Beautiful Torture Page 9