Jaidee moved close to him. She smelled of sweat and cheap perfume. “You want I talk dirty to get you in the mood? Tell you the naughty things I will do to you? Yes, yes. I understand.” She shimmied the slinky dress from her slender body and cupped her small breasts in her hands, leaning forward in what she must have thought was a provocative pose. She looked so young, with her narrow hips and tiny breasts, though Devin realized she was probably older than she appeared. Watching her, he felt more embarrassed than attracted.
“Please,” he tried again, making his tone firm. “Put your dress back on, Jaidee.” He pointed to the dress puddled on the floor, waiting until she bent down to retrieve it. Reluctantly she pulled it over her head, her mouth turned down in a pout.
She crossed her arms, the pout edging into a worried glare. “No money back. You come in room, you pay. End of story, Mister.”
“Absolutely. I understand, Jaidee. The money is yours. And a nice tip, too, if you can help me with what I need. Please,” he tried again, patting the bed beside him. “Come sit down. I want to ask you some questions. I’m trying to find someone. Someone very close to me. You might be able to help me. Please, Jaidee, I need your help.”
Jaidee looked incredulous. “You don’t want naughty play?” Again her small mouth turned into a downward pout and she put her hands on her hips. “My tits not big enough for American man?”
Devin shook his head, a small, exasperated laugh erupting from his lips. “I’m British, not American. And believe me, you’re lovely, Jaidee. If I wanted naughty play, you would be the one I chose. But what I need from you now is your help. A woman’s life may well hang in the balance.”
Looking somewhat mollified, Jaidee finally came to sit beside him on the bed. Satisfied he had her full attention at last, Devin said, “I’m looking for a woman I believe has been abducted.” When the girl looked blank, he added, “kidnapped, taken by bad men.”
Jaidee’s eyes widened and she nodded, though her face had become guarded. Determined, Devin continued, “I know from my investigations you were taken by bad men last year—taken to a place where this woman might be now. I need to know anything you can tell me about it.”
Turning away from Devin, Jaidee wrapped her thin arms around her torso and leaned forward, her hair falling in a dark, shiny curtain over her face. “Please,” Devin said quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder.
When Jaidee looked back at him, all trace of coquettishness was gone and she suddenly looked her age, which he guessed was closer to thirty than twenty. “I was lucky I get free,” she said. “I have friends, men who take care of me. They get me out.”
Devin wondered just how well these men “took care” of Jaidee, putting her to work as a prostitute, but of course he said nothing, waiting for her to continue. Jaidee shook her hair back, meeting his eye. “I no want to talk on this. Bad luck.”
He tried to keep his voice calm, though he wanted to shake her. “I understand, Jaidee. It must be hard to talk about. But I need to find the place. It will be very bad luck for my friend if I don’t find her.”
Reaching again for his wallet, he withdrew more bills, placing them on Jaidee’s thigh. As she put her hand over the money, he said, “I need you to tell me any details you can remember. Something particular or unusual about where you were kept that might help me pinpoint the location.”
The girl sucked on her finger and regarded the ceiling. “Big rooms. Very fancy. Like a palace. I not there long. Lucky me, I not what the big man looking for.” She grimaced. “They take me away, make me lie down in back, my eyes covered with cloth. But they don’t do the cloth tight. I could see little bit from underneath, like so.” Jaidee demonstrated, tilting her chin upward and looking down her nose. “I saw the ocean. And I saw white horses, so pretty.”
“Horses?” Devin grabbed onto the words, something triggering in his memory.
“How you say—statues? They were very beautiful, made all in stone. White stone.”
Excitement gripped Devin as he thought back over the photos of the various locations George had collected in his investigation. What were the odds there was more than one wild horse sculpture garden along the Thai coast? Devin’s heart began to thud. Finally something concrete to hold onto.
Had George known what he had? Devin recalled the investigator’s comment: I got really close, but I got shut down by officials who didn’t want me to succeed for reasons of their own. And if Jaidee had been able to identify the location, didn’t that put her in danger as well, as someone who knew too much?
“Jaidee, did you tell anyone else about the horses?”
The girl shook her head.
“Why not?”
Jaidee shrugged. “No one ask.”
Chapter 9
“Devin, my boy. I thought you were in Thailand. Is everything okay?”
“I am in Thailand. And no, everything’s not okay. That’s why I’m calling. I need your help.”
Uncle Ron had been more like a father than an uncle to Devin, stepping in to help Devin’s mother after his father had been killed in a car accident when Devin was twelve. Devin sorely hoped his uncle could help now. He was Sir Ronald Lyons, Superintendent at Scotland Yard, with extensive experience in Asian affairs and ties to Interpol, the international police.
Devin began to pour out the story, trying to keep his voice steady as he related the events that had unfolded over the past couple of days.
“What time is it there? It’s late, no?” Uncle Ron asked.
“A little after midnight. I just came from a club where I spoke with a Thai woman who was taken briefly to the compound where I think Leah might be.” He filled in his uncle on the details of his talk with Jaidee.
“Where are you calling from now?” There was an urgency to Uncle Ron’s tone that unsettled Devin.
“I’m on my mobile. I’m back at my hotel.”
“Okay, good. Don’t use any landlines, and don’t talk about this to any of the local authorities. Who have you gone to so far besides this PI of yours?”
“I went to the police when Leah first went missing yesterday evening, but they wouldn’t do anything about it. The concierge at the hotel claimed she checked out and went on to Bangkok, but I know he’s lying. He’s got to be in on whatever is going on. She’s not the first to disappear—”
“Hold on, will you? I need to look something up. I have to boot my computer.” Devin, who had been pacing the room, went over to the bed and sat down heavily. Every muscle and bone in his body ached, but at the same time he felt hopeful. His uncle hadn’t dismissed his story, but seemed to be taking it seriously—very seriously.
After a few minutes, Uncle Ron was back on the line. “Devin, listen to me. It’s worse than I feared. You’ve stumbled into something quite dangerous. Interpol is working with the Royal Thai Police. They’ve created a special task force and they’re getting close to a bust. You need to be very careful. They’re aware that an American citizen was recently reported missing. But this is bigger than just some American woman being abducted.”
“It’s not just some woman, Uncle Ron. She’s—I’m—we—“ Though he was alone in the room, Devin felt his face heating.
“You’ve got it bad, huh?” His uncle laughed and Devin could almost see his craggy, kind face. The laughter eased the tight knot in Devin’s stomach, just a little.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I never believed in that love at first sight nonsense but—”
“Why ever not?” his uncle interrupted. “When I first saw your Aunt Mirabel my freshman year at Oxford, sitting pretty as you please beneath that old oak tree near the commons, it was all over. Here we are forty-two years later, and I’ve never looked back.”
Devin smiled in spite of himself, having heard the story of his aunt and uncle’s first meeting a dozen times over the years. The fact that Aunt Mirabel had been engaged at the time to another man hadn’t fazed Uncle Ron in the slightest.
Recalling himself, Devin persisted. “I n
eed your help, Uncle Ron. I need to be a part of this. I have to find Leah.”
“Understood. Fax me those files you obtained, and the photos of the property. I’ll coordinate with my contacts at Interpol and see if they can’t use you somehow. Your position with the estate agency might provide just the cover they need to gain access. But Devin, we’re not going to get much done until the sun comes up over there. It’s six o’clock in the evening here, but I’ll see what I can find out on this end, and give you a call first thing in the morning, Thai time. Meanwhile, get some rest, will you? You sound beat.”
“Yeah,” Devin agreed, rubbing at the grit in his eyes. “Thank you, Uncle Ron. I owe you big time.”
“You owe me nothing, nephew. Now get some rest. Good night.”
“’Night. And thanks.”
Devin let himself fall back against the pillows, too exhausted suddenly even to take off his clothing. Closing his eyes, he felt himself being sucked down into a deep, dreamless sleep.
~*~
Leah found herself bound to a rack that was like something out of a science fiction movie. Made from some kind of metal tubing, it consisted of a circle large enough for a person to stand or lie inside, arms and legs spread in a human X. She was secured at the wrists, ankles and waist, her back supported by a bar that extended across the diameter of the circle. The rack was mounted on a pivot, enabling it to be tilted at any angle, from fully upright to completely horizontal.
At the moment, Leah was upright, staring at an image of herself in a mirror that covered an entire wall. The room, like the torture chamber the steward had taken her to, contained BDSM equipment and gear, but unlike that windowless room, which had the stark, institutional feel of a prison cell, this room had thick pile carpet on the floor, woven tapestries hung along the walls that weren’t mirrored, and a queen size bed in one corner, piled with plump pillows and covered with another elaborately woven tapestry. A crystal vase filled with fresh flowers stood on a marble table in front of a large bay window. Sunlight streamed into the room, gilding the flowers in gold.
Leah had been awakened from a deep sleep that morning by Alex gently shaking her shoulder. Khalil had been nowhere in sight. “Wake up, girl. The Master will see you in an hour. We have to get you groomed and ready.”
Just behind Alex stood one of the guards, burly arms crossed over his barrel chest, his eyes dead as stones. She was permitted to drink some water, but other than that nothing was offered, and though she’d eaten well the night before, she was starving.
While Alex groomed and prepared Leah, Khalil’s threat of nipple torture from the night before loomed heavy in her mind. She tried to engage Alex in a whispered conversation about what was in store for her, but he ignored her completely, never making eye contact as he bathed and shaved her and applied another round of the full makeup.
When Alex was satisfied, he rang a small bell he took out of his sleeve. After a moment, the second guard joined the first and she was escorted, none too gently, to this mirrored, over-decorated BDSM dungeon. After they strapped her to the circular rack, the guards withdrew, closing the door silently behind them.
Leah looked away from the mirror, hating the sight of herself with shaven pussy and rouged nipples, her face painted like that of a stranger. She jumped when the door opened. Khalil entered, again decked out in his white silk shirt and lounge pants, his feet bare.
He stopped just inside the door, insolently raking her naked, spread eagle body for several long moments, his hand moving to massage his rising cock beneath the silk. Moving closer, he asked, “Sleep well, little one? You were like an angel when I woke, your hair spread over the sheets like hammered gold. I have chosen well to honor you with my attention. I know you’re eager to prove your worth this morning, so I won’t keep you waiting any longer.”
Leah said nothing, though his words, said with such self-assured arrogance, sent a chill of pure terror down her spine. The man was clearly insane. Did he really delude himself that she was eager to prove anything, or somehow honored to be kidnapped and brutalized?
Khalil went to an ornate black cabinet and pulled open a drawer. He returned to Leah with a pair of clover clamps. Leah was no stranger to that type of clamp, and even owned her own pair for playing BDSM games. She loved the intensity as her nipples were caught in the tight grip of the clamps, especially when her lover would lick and tease her compressed, engorged nipples while gently tugging on the chain. The heady blend of pleasure and pain had always thrilled her, tapping in to her core passion for erotic suffering.
But there was nothing erotic about what was happening now. The thought of Khalil using the clamps on her nipples made Leah sick with fear. She knew he would follow no safe or sane rules in his sadistic pursuits. Safewords didn’t exist in his vocabulary. He’d made that clear enough the night before.
She shut her eyes as he tugged at her nipples and closed the clamps over each. He gave the chain a savage tug, drawing a scream from Leah.
“You can do better than that, surely? I have such hopes for you.”
He stepped away, returning with a flogger. “Forgive me. I moved too quickly in my eagerness to test you. I didn’t tell you the rules. I am going to warm your skin first with this flogger and help put you in a better mindset for what I have planned.”
He stroked her breasts with the leather tresses, dragging them heavily over her clamped nipples. Her nipples were throbbing but she knew from experience they would soon numb to the point where she could deal with the pain.
“Here is what I expect.” Khalil said, as he struck her breasts, stomach and thighs with the flogger. “Whatever I do to you, no matter how much it hurts, I expect you to stay utterly silent. I understand this will be difficult at times, and while I wish for perfection, I know you are limited, untrained as you are. Just be aware, the more unseemly yelping and cries that fall from those pretty lips, the harsher shall be your punishment at the hands of the guards when we are through.”
He dragged the flogger down her body and ran it between her legs, using both hands to pull it hard against her spread cunt. Leah tried not to wince and after a few seconds he let it fall. Leaning in close, he said softly, “If you displease me, I shall instruct them to beat you until they draw blood.”
Leah began to tremble, unable to stop her body from registering her terror or prevent the small whimper that escaped her lips. She thought of Setsuko locked in that punishment cage, her back welted and bloodied, and knew Khalil would make good on his threat.
“There, there, little one,” Khalil said softly, stroking her cheek. “Your fear is exciting to me, but I still demand your obedience. I have great faith in your potential. Stay silent and take what I give you with the grace of a true slave girl. For while the punishment if you fail will be swift and harsh, so shall the reward be great. The longer you stay silent, the more you will please me. I know that is what you crave, what all my girls crave, which is as it should be.”
Leah took a deep breath. Somehow she had to get through this. While she hated the idea of doing anything to please this insane megalomaniac, she recognized it was better to please than displease him. He had complete control and all the power. The only thing she could exercise was her will.
Lifting the chain, he tugged again at her nipples. As she’d hoped, they had numbed to the point where she could tolerate the pain. She closed her eyes, trying to let her mind empty.
You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.
Her eyes flew open when he tilted the rack, moving her to a horizontal position. For a moment she felt as if she were falling, but she was securely tethered to the rack. She couldn’t move an inch. Khalil lifted the chain between the clamps, pulling it up, reawakening her numbed nerve endings in the process. Leah drew in a sharp breath, but somehow managed to stay silent.
Reaching into his pants pocket, Khalil withdrew a two-sided clip, attaching one side to the center of the chain, and the other to the O ring on Leah’s slave collar. The tensi
on increased on Leah’s tortured nipples, but she pressed her lips together, refusing to let a single sound escape.
Leaving her a moment, Khalil returned with a short-handled, single tail whip. He snapped it against her right breast, the tip catching painfully against the underside. Leah couldn’t help the gasp that slipped past her lips. Her heart was beating like a drum.
He struck the other breast, leaving a matching line of fire. Tears smarted behind Leah’s eyelids but she blinked them rapidly back, refusing to cry in front of her tormentor. He continued to flick the whip, almost casually, the strokes seemingly random, though each flick was harder than the last.
When the whip caught her left nipple dead on, Leah lost control and cried out. Khalil frowned. “And you were doing so well, little one.” He shrugged, adding, “Ah well. No matter. We will try something new.”
Without warning, he reached for the clamps and released them from her nipples. Leah opened her mouth in a silent scream of pure agony as the blood rushed back into her tortured nipples, but by some miracle, she managed to stay quiet.
Khalil smiled and nodded. “Good girl. Much better.” After releasing the chain from her collar, he pushed at the side of the rack, lifting her upright again. Moving toward the cabinet, he returned with something that looked positively medieval. They appeared to be another type of nipple clamps, but instead of padded tips, the ends were comprised of tiny spiked teeth.
Leah instinctively tried to shrink back as Khalil moved closer, pressing one of the clamps open as he grabbed her right nipple and pulled it taut. She closed her eyes, turning her head away as the sharp metal teeth bit into her flesh. When he attached the second one, she made the mistake of looking down. At the sight of the droplets of bright red blood circling her clamped nipples, she felt sick and rapidly looked away.
Again she encouraged herself with the silent words: You can do this. You can do this. Her nipples stung and throbbed, but the pain wasn’t intolerable. But Khalil wasn’t done. He attached heavy lead weights to the chain that dangled between the vicious clamps. As the weight tugged at the teeth, they sank deeper into Leah’s skin. Keeping her eyes closed, Leah began to count slowly, trying to match her breathing to the numbers.
Dark Obsessions - Volume I: Four Intense Capture Fantasies in One Sizzling Collection Page 32
