Understandably the screaming increased after that, and I hastily made my exit, hoping Mal was careful to wash his hands before coming my way.
I listened to the sound of that poor man's suffering for half an hour, before the distinctive sound of splintering wood could be heard. After that, the screaming stopped. Hopefully the poor bastard had passed out. I couldn't imagine how much pain he was going through, but it sounded ghastly. A few seconds went by before there was the distinctive sound of a gunshot. My back jerked back in shock on the bed. Holy shit.
Mal breezed in a few minutes later as if nothing had happened. Yep, the man didn't appear to have a care in the world. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary happened back there. Nope. He even has a smile on his face. I don't think it's a smile that says, 'I'm really looking forward to having sex with you, Harper'. I think it's a smile that says, 'I had a lot of fun torturing that bloke back there'. I'm not going to ask him to clarify, though.
"'Arper, you're a sight for sore eyes," Mal comments, as he begins to unbutton his shirt. It's spattered with blood, which is a little off-putting, but I pretend not to notice.
"How are you, Mal?" I ask, trying to fill in the accompanying silence. I can't ask him how his day went because I honestly don't want to know the response.
"Never been better, 'Arper, never better," he replies, and starts whistling to himself as he concentrates on getting naked. My thoughts stray to the now dead naked man outside, and I repress the shudder that wants to rip through me.
"Alex said you wanted to see me about something?" He always wants to see me at the weekend, it's kind of a standing order these days, but today he specifically told Alex he wanted to see me about running a little errand for him. I haven't forgotten what he said months earlier about this, so my blood runs a little colder. I want to know what I'm expected to do. I know I can't refuse, so I just have to hope it's not too bad.
Mal just smiles. I think he wants to drag this out. It's how he normally works. He likes to prolong the agony, and he loves to watch people squirm.
"Yep. I need you to do suffin' for me, but we'll talk about it later, 'Arper. At the moment I'm a starvin' man, darlin'. I haven't seen you for a week. I need a taste of my little girl. Come 'ere." He pats his legs with both hands.
That's my cue to go sit on his lap while he carefully examines my shaven pussy with one hand and squeezes my boobs with the other. He's so heavy-handed I fear they're going to fall off after a couple of minutes, but I know better than to argue. If he knows it hurts me, he does it all the more. Life with Alex is scary enough, but life with Mal, well. Let's just say it's never boring, in a life and death kind of way.
"Can I suck you off, Mal?" I whisper, with a breathy little voice that I hope is more lust than fear. The earlier shot is still ringing in my head, and screwing with me. The quicker I get Mal off, the quicker I can relax, but I'm pretty sure it's not going to be that easy.
"What's the rush? Let's have some fun." This is the point at which my insides turn to mush. My idea of fun and Mal's differ considerably, and I never know what's in store for me. Generally, I can bet that it's likely to scare the living daylights out of me, because that's what turns him on.
"Absolutely." The enthusiasm in my voice is forced, but if he notices it doesn't bother him in the slightest. Currently my clit is between his fingers, and he's squeezing it hard. My eyes begin to water.
After a few minutes of Mal inspecting the goods, making sure everything is how it should be, which mainly means nice and wet, he says, "I want to test out something new tonight, baby." I stiffen. New is not normally good.
"What's that, Mal?" I still can't call him anything remotely sexy. It's Mal or nothing. The thought of calling him darling or baby makes me feel physically ill.
"It's a hood. A nice big, black leather hood. It covers everyfing. You just get a mouth hole for when I feel horny. You won't be able to hear or see anything. The anticipation of waiting to see what will happen next will drive you wild, hun." It'll drive me something, but wild wouldn't have been the first word on my lips. The dead guy outside springs to mind once again. I'm going to be blind, just like him, wondering what this sick fucker has planned for me next. If that wasn't enough, I'm still waiting to hear what my later errand is going to be. Before this evening's out I'll need a hospital's store of Valium.
Now that Mal has let me in on the big reveal, he wastes no time getting the hood out to show me. It's made of thick black leather, and features padding around the eyes and ears to make sure I'm closed off from the outside world. There's a buckle which will be fastened around my forehead, and another which will circle my neck. It also has a black ball-gag attached to it, for when he wants to muffle my screams. I feel sick. The thought of being even more helpless than usual around this madman is not a pleasant one. I will be entirely at his mercy. This is bad. This is really fucking bad.
My shoulders tense. "I'm not sure if I like the—"
"Come now, 'Arper," Mal interrupts. "You know you don't really have a choice, right?"
I inhale deeply. No, I didn't know that for sure, but at least I do now. "Why don't I have a choice?" I whisper quietly. I think I already know the answer, but I want to make sure.
Mal sits down on the bed and pulls his shoes and socks off. His boxer shorts follow shortly after, revealing his very erect cock. I think I'm going to hyperventilate. The hood has him far more excited than my feeble offer of a blowjob. I'd better think up some new tricks, else he might hit me with a medieval torture device next time.
Mal sighs when he sees my face. "OK, I'm going to be nice. Do you want to know what your task is before we begin? I wouldn't usually do this, but you're not just anyone, 'Arper. I'm gettin' very fond of you." The last thing I need is for this monster to get attached to me, but I do want to know what he's got in store for me, so I nod my head.
"You've got to dump a gun and a little package of blow around someone's dorm for me. Shouldn't be too hard. He's a bloke. You're a girl. I'm pretty sure you'll think of something. See? That's not too bad, is it?" Mal smiles at me, as if he's asking me to do no more than key the poor fucker's car. This isn't going to be a random act of vandalism. If it were a petty crime that the man might get no more than a slap on the wrist for, I could probably live with that, but drugs and a gun? That's some serious shit.
"You want me to put someone in prison?" I whisper.
There's more. I know there's more. This isn't some random person I'm being asked to destroy. This has Alex Wilkinson stamped all over it. I can feel the walls closing in, to the point where they're squeezing the life out of me. Even the surrounding air has the weight of impending doom riding upon it. I can't do this. I can't put some poor fucker in jail for a crime he didn't commit.
"Yes. That's exactly what I want you to do." Mal nods. "You do know what happens to people who don't follow orders around these parts, don't you?"
And that's when it hits me. Ka-Ching. Today has been staged right from the very beginning. All this has been carefully planned to scare the crap out of me, and it's bloody well worked.
"Who?" I ask timidly. If I'm condemning my soul to hell, I might as well know who's going down with me, although I have a horrible feeling I already know.
"What does it matter? Are you really going to refuse me?" Mal looks amused.
"What happens if I say no?" It's a stupid question. I know exactly what happens.
"You end up the same way that guy out there did." Mal's thumb points towards the door. "The guy in question will still get totalled. I'll just get someone else to do it. Your choice, though. As much as I don't want to kill you, 'Arper, I'm sure I'd have plenty of fun doing so."
I don't doubt it.
"Who?" I repeat. I need to hear this.
Mal shrugs. "Some guy called Brandt Browning, and that's all you need to worry your pretty little head about." The black hood is then pulled swiftly over my head, and Mal buckles the thing up tightly. The hood instantly feels like it's suffocating me beca
use it's too tight, and when the darkness comes down over my eyes, I have a moment. Am I going mad? I'm not sure, but I have a feeling I'm very close to it.
"You look gorgeous, darlin'." Mal thrusts his fingers between my legs and pumps them back and forth. I have no idea if I'm wet. I'm too fucking scared to care. The last words he says to me before I completely lose the plot are, "Now open wide, or you'll regret it."
A black ball-gag is then pressed hard against my lips and forced between my teeth. I decide I'm going to save the scream that's building in the back of my throat for later. I have a feeling there'll be plenty more to join it.
A heel slammed against my thigh, brings me back into the real world with a thud. Jesus. My eyes water with pain as I shriek and take a dive under the bed. These two are still at it. When my eyes can focus worth a damn, I see that Brandt's taken a lot of damage. He's stumbling about the place half drunk, lurching and staggering as he tries to aim his next punch. His coordination is now shot to hell, due to one too many hits to the face, and if he's not careful he'll go down shortly. He's no match for Gabriel, and he knows it.
"I mean it," Brandt slurs. "If you touch her, that'll be the end of us. You'll have to kill me too, because I will hunt you down and I will end you."
"You mean you'll try," Gabriel snorts. His next kick sends Brandt reeling, and he has to grasp one of the cell bars to stop himself from falling over. There's then the clang of metal against metal, and I wonder if he's slammed his head into them. My face whips round to see what has happened, and my mouth opens in shock.
Brandt is trapped. Gabriel must have had a pair of cuffs in his pocket, because one of Brandt's hands is now securely attached to one of the metal bars of my cell.
Holy hell. Aren't those two supposed to be on the same team? What is going on here?
Chapter 16 - Gabriel
"Take this off!" Brandt roars, tugging frantically at the metal bracelet that encircles his wrist. He looks adorable when he's mad.
"No." I cross my arms over my chest. This is going down my way, and he'd better brace himself.
"Now Gabriel. I'm not fucking joking." Brandt is slurring slightly, which has me feeling guilty. Sometimes I forget my own strength. If I really hurt the guy I'd never forgive myself. But everything has been building up to this point, and I want to play the hand I've been dealt. If I can't get Harper to talk by messing with her, I wonder if she'll talk if I mess with Brandt? It seems a rather backward idea, but these two feel something for each other. I've seen it. What if she is protecting him? If so, if I threaten to hurt him then maybe she'll crack. I think it's worth a try. Anyway, it'll be fun to find out.
Turning to Harper, I say, "Go sit on the bed, princess." She's currently cowering underneath it, and I think I may have hit her accidentally. My bad? If I had my way I'd decimate every single sweet hole in her entire body, but I need to be careful. I can't piss Brandt off too much. If I crack the girl open wide he'll go cray cray on me, and it's not a pleasant sight. That's one of the reasons he's got cuffs on. I'm going to be demonstrating the other later, but for that, I'll need another set.
"The bed, Harper," I repeat loudly, after she's made no move to obey me. "Or are we back to laps around the cell floor?" This, funnily enough, spurs her into motion.
Now I could put the other cuff around Brandt's hand now, when he's not really paying attention, but that would defeat the object of the exercise. I want him to watch everything I'm about to do to her, and if he has to twist his head awkwardly round to see anything, the chances are he'll miss some of the good parts. This way, he can settle in for the cinematic version in relative comfort. I'll find some other way to distract him later, when we get down to the next chapter. I'm still going to torment the poor bastard, though, because that's what I'm good at.
Digging my hand in the front pocket of his jeans, I let my hand brush against his cock as I search for the key. I find it with little effort. I made sure to keep my eye on him when I gave it to him, just in case I'd need it later. Always plan ahead. That's what I say.
Now I'm here, though, it seems wrong not to have a little fun. Giving his flaccid cock a tight squeeze, I smile when it hardens under my hand. He's not completely impervious to my advances, then. When a left fist comes whizzing my way I hastily take a step back, then waving the key in the air triumphantly, I smile nastily when Brandt realises what's just happened.
"Right girls and boys, I just need to get a few things before we continue here. I will say one thing before I go, though. No one is leaving this room until Harper talks. Quite frankly, I'm bored of all this nonsense. One way or another I will get what I want this evening, and I'm not just referring to the talking part. You're both going to get it, so I'd brace yourselves if I were you. Now play nicely while I'm gone, or you'll be in all sorts of trouble when I get back. Adios, mis amigos."
Chapter 17 - Brandt
Gabriel's fingers on my body are an aberration and a violation. I want to say I hate every second of his brief caress, but that would be a blatant lie. I hate him for what he did to me back in prison and I hate him for hurting me, but I can't hate his touch. My body won't let me. The awful thing is that Gabriel knows this. He's always known how intense the attraction is between us. He also knows that no matter what I say, he can override my brain with little more than a touch of his lips or a soft caress. I resent the power he holds over me so fucking much it hurts.
"Are you okay?" I position my body so it's facing Harper, who is now sitting on the bed as ordered. She's still tied up, and her knees are an angry shade of a bloody mess. By the way she keeps hopping from one ass cheek to another, I'd guess that he did a number on her, too.
"I'll live," she whispers. "Are you okay?" Those eyes tell me she knows what I'm feeling. The woman is far too perceptive for her own good. I look away before she can discover any more of my secrets.
Grabbing the bars in frustration I say, "You can't fight him. He thinks this is a game, and he'll stop at nothing to win. Just give in before we both get hurt. The other option doesn't bear thinking about." When my eyes reconnect with hers, they try their best to relay the precarious predicament she is in. I don't think she realises how dangerous Gabriel is.
Harper's gaze falls into her lap. "I'm not going to fight him. I don't need to win. All I need to do is endure this mess for a couple more days. Then it will all be over, and I'll be dead." Her voice cracks. She needs water. I hope Gabriel takes care of her. I want to slap myself for letting him get the better of me. Now she is vulnerable. I've walked right into his hands. I need to learn to control my rage. If prison has taught me anything, it should have taught me that.
"Don't talk nonsense. He'll see sense. Gabriel might be a monster, but he's my monster. He won't do anything really stupid. He knows he'll lose me if that happens." Harper thinks Gabriel is going to kill her, and while that may be the case, he wouldn't dare do it while I'm watching. He's a sneaky bastard, and he's probably already planning a way to dispose of Harper once this is all over, but I'll make sure he's disabused of that notion pretty damn fast. He forgets that I know how he thinks. Sharing a cell with a guy like Gabriel is a very intimate experience, and it taught me a lot. While Gabriel is very sexual in nature, he's also cunning, quick-witted, and intelligent. He remembers every word he reads. While most of his reading time might have been in prison, it's taught him a lot. It takes time to completely change a con artist, but there are cracks in Gabriel's armour these days. He's not the man he used to be. Elements of a conscience are peeking through the thick veneer he wears. No man is an island, and Gabriel is just beginning to figure that out.
"What will he do to us?" Harper half hiccups, half sobs. I think she's had just about as much as she can take. I'm worried about her, which is rich coming from me.
"I don't know. He'll either torment us, or fuck us, or both. I wouldn't like to put money on which." Wiping away a trail of blood from my nose, I grimace. If Gabriel plans to take me by force, there'll be trouble. A whole lot of trouble
. We had an agreement.
Harper snuffles a bit more and looks down at her tied feet. "Do you think you can stop him?" Now I look a bit harder, I can see she's trembling all over. Gabriel had better be careful. If he pushes her too hard she'll go into shock.
I pull my right arm up sharply to the resounding clang of metal. Swearing, I shake my head. "I don't think so. Not until he releases me. He'll probably just make me watch while he fucks you." I don't add the reason why, although Harper can probably figure that out for herself. He wants to make it clear who's alpha dog in this bizarre threesome, and so far, he's not doing a bad job of it.
"That's not so terrible," she whispers, "I can cope with that."
My head snaps back. Surely I didn't hear that right. "What did you just say?" The earlier fuzziness that had taken over my brain from having ten tonnes of shit knocked out of it clears instantly. Something is very wrong here.
Harper waves her hand in the air, as if to brush off her last sentence. "Doesn't matter."
It fucking does matter. Then it hits me like a lightning bolt. She suffers from the same disease I do.
"You find him attractive, don't you?" I realise I'm insanely jealous. Gabriel has already had more of her than I have, and now it's being thrust in my face I've decided I want my share. When I get out of the cuffs I'm bending her over the nearest flat surface I can find, and I'm going to make her see stars. I shake my head. For God's sake, I'm just as bad as he is. This is the testosterone talking. That's not why she's here. I just want to hear her version of events, and then I can get rid of her.
"Everyone finds him attractive."
That is not the answer I want to hear, which is why the next question springs instantly to my lips. "Do you find me attractive?"
Harper looks at me exasperatedly and shakes her head. "I've always found you attractive, Brandt. You know that. You were the stuff of my high school fantasies. Too bad they turned to nightmares, huh?" She stares off into space. She seems to be lost inside her head, and I know that feeling. I've been lost for the last five years.
Beautiful Torture Page 17