Sadistic Games

by Lucian Bane

  The position he held her in required her to hold on to his head, both arms wrapped tight. It put her breasts in the path of his devouring mouth—teeth, tongue, heat—all of it drew her astonished cries. Before she could worry where he was walking, the room tilted, making her latch tighter to him with her legs and arms. And then softness pressed into her back. His bed. Nothing mattered more than him pressing himself fully into her then moving in a way that allowed her to feel him so completely. He was immaculately beautiful, hard and boiling hot against her.

  His breaths burned at her ear then neck then mouth until she fought to do the same, feel him exactly the same way. Her virgin hands devoured him as far as she could reach, her legs wrapping around him.

  He reached down and yanked her panties so hard they ripped off her. But it wasn’t until he positioned the giant head of his cock against her that it happened. Her legs clamped hard on his waist and she shoved against him. “W-wait, wait,” she gasped as he grunted, pushing into her opening. The pain sent clarity shooting through her head. “Stop,” she yelled. “Wait!”

  Mordecai growled, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and moving it next to her head. He did the same with the other and she squirmed out of his grasp at realizing he was back to forcing her.

  “No,” he warned as he grappled to capture her.

  “Mordecai… stop,” she grunted pulling and pushing every which way against his iron grip on her wrists. “Don’t…”

  “Fight me all you want,” he shuddered, his cock pushing at her buttocks now. “But it’ll be worse.”

  He let go of one hand, reaching between them, positioning himself again.

  “Wait, wait!” she gasped, shoving her hand over her opening to block the way. “I can’t, I—” She gasped as the head of his cock pressed against her fingers. “Stop, please!”

  He reached and yanked her hand out of the way, positioning again. But she managed to shove and move it off course where it jabbed into the juncture of her thigh.

  “I’m going to tie you back up,” he warned.

  “You can’t do that!” she cried, gripping his cock in a strangle hold. “You said I could fight for what I believe!”

  “This isn’t fighting, this is bizarre fumbling. Fuck,” he strained, pushing and pulling into her hand. She realized she was jacking him off!

  He groaned and closed his eyes, and it was like a spell that bound her, forcing her to see him in the throes of such pleasure. Then she realized what she was doing and let him go.

  He gave a frustrated growl, gulping for air. “That’s it,” he swore, then suddenly froze. He snapped his head left.

  Startled, Miriam whispered, “What…”

  “Shh!” he ordered, flying off her and hurrying to his door. Listening for a brief second, he raced to his desk, his face a mask of fury.

  Miriam sat up as he snatched his phone. “What’s wrong?”

  “Motherfuck,” he grit, tapping the screen several times, staring. “Fuck!” He ran to his dresser behind him and yanked it open, pulling out pants and stumbling into them.

  “Is somebody here?”

  “They are,” he said, racing over to her and grabbing her hand, pulling her.

  “They who? Who are they?” she whispered, entering a door with him.

  “The ones who want to cut you up into pieces while you watch.”

  Terror seized her. “Oh God,” she whispered, realizing they were in his closet. Her heart hammered as a wall of shelves before him opened like a door.

  “No matter what you hear,” he instructed, pushing her into a suddenly lit room, “don’t come out. This is a safe room. You have food, water, guns, and an emergency radio. If I don’t come back within an hour, use the radio. Call for help, try every frequency.”

  “Wh-what about you, why don’t you just come in with me? I don’t know how to use a radio!”

  “I have to deal with them.”

  C H A P T E R S I X

  WTF

  The lethal sound in his voice said he planned to kill them. “What? What does that mean?” she hissed, right as a bang sounded below. Mordecai shut the door and the second he did, locks automatically engaged, making her jump.

  She stared for several seconds, breathless then hurried to it. She turned her head and pressed her ear to the metal surface, straining to hear. The dead silence made her wonder just how thick the door might be.

  She glanced over her shoulder and got busy discovering her surroundings. The room reminded her of her gramma’s tiny house, nine feet wide and twice as long. She eyed the wall on the left, filled with every manner of weapon, guns mostly. Knives, bows, other… things she wasn’t sure of. She walked slowly, turning to the right wall. The white cabinets were built in with no knobs on the doors.

  She went over and felt along the underside for a button or something. She pressed on the face of one of the doors and it gave a metallic click then sprung open. Food. Rows of matching cans, perfectly aligned. Her eye immediately caught the exact symmetry of every can. Even the words on the duplicate food items lined up. For some reason, it made her feel so very sorry for him. What a torment.

  She pressed the next door, discovering more of the same, and the same on the next, all the way down the entire wall. What in the world was he planning for? An alien invasion?

  She searched to the end of the room and almost turned before seeing another crack along the top edge. She followed it down and instinctively reached out and pushed it. The same metallic click happened, and the door sprung open. She pulled it open and lights on the ceiling fluttered on one after another, brighter with every second.

  Her jaw dropped at the wall of monitors and equipment on the left. What in the world? Her brain sputtered to understand as her memory threw up the talk of them using monitors. There was no way he had time to install all this.

  She looked at the perfectly made bed on the right and the old military-style writing desk at the foot with a rusty green lantern. She went back to the monitors, her brain buzzing with the puzzle before her. This was… like… spy stuff.

  The idea that he might be some kind of secret agent was climbing up her list of options. What else would this stuff be for?

  She continued forward, wondering if there might be an exit at the end of the strange room. She discovered a toilet, shower and sink on the left, and a fridge and microwave on the right. She stepped up to the end wall, examining it for another secret door, sliding her fingers along its edges and pressing it in various spots.

  Only a wall. Her mind gravitated to the dilemma behind her and what it all meant. She spied the radio on the far end of the table, near the bed. The single metal chair before the equipment indicated a one-man operation.

  Moving back to the machines, she searched for words that might help her understand what she was seeing. Nothing but mumbo jumbo numbers and letters. No knobs, buttons, nothing. Was it operated remotely?

  She looked around for any devices that might be used for working it. She resorted to sliding her fingers along the faces of each machine, pressing like she did with the doors.

  “Yes!” she cried at the appearance of a blue light. “That’s it,” she whispered, glancing up at the monitors. She leaned and craned her neck, searching for the ON/OFF switch. She pressed what she found, and it flashed on. “Yes,” she rejoiced, staring. The monitor split into four screens and she recognized the kitchen and the laundry. The dining. The entry. “Why in the world would he watch his own house?”

  She hurried to turn on the four other monitors then stood back, staring at the first one, her confusion growing as every room in the house filled the screens. On the third monitor, she found the dread that had her stomach twisted. Her bedroom! And bathroom! But why? Why would he have all the rooms under surveillance? It couldn’t be for her, he had them before she came.

  She finally stood back, noticing new rooms appearing on some screens. She froze in terror at the image on one. Three men, kicking something. “Oh my God!” she realized, co
vering her mouth. “Mordecai, oh my God, oh my God!” They were killing him!

  She looked around the room, desperate for a way to stop them, to help him. “Think, think,” she breathed, covering her mouth when she looked again in time to see them dragging him to a chair.

  They were tying him to it! Oh my God! “What are they saying, oh God, help me!”

  She searched and found the volume, pressing it rapidly while gasping for air and staring at the horror three inches from her face. When the voices became audible, she scrambled back, watching.

  “We can do this all night, Mordi,” one said, leaning down and peering at his hanging head. “Just tell us where to find her.”

  Miriam’s blood froze. They were there for her!

  “I already told you,” Mordecai croaked. “She’s long gone.”

  She cried out when the guy interrogating him reached for a pipe in the other guy’s hand. “No, no, no,” she begged. “No!” she screamed as the pipe slammed across his face. She glimpsed his bloody, swollen face, oh my God. “Stop it!” she yelled, racing into the other room to the wall of guns. “Oh my God, oh my God,” she cried, grabbing one of the long ones. She blindly dug through the drawers, throwing things out. “Bullets, where are the bullets!”

  She thought to check the gun, finally locating the chamber and giving a sob of relief at seeing it loaded. She eyed the bullet in the chamber. She needed to find more.

  She raced back to the drawers, opening them all. Finding the ones that matched, she grabbed a handful. Oh God, she had nowhere to put them! She needed some real clothes!

  Laying the gun on the counter with the bullets, she raced to the back, fighting not to see what was on the screens as she located the small closet she’d seen near the bath area. Pressing on the front, she let out a sob from the sounds of the three men hitting Mordecai reaching her. “Stop, stop,” she begged, as the single dresser behind the door came into view.

  “Thank you!” she cried, yanking out the first piece of clothing. A t-shirt. She quickly pulled the dress and garters off and put it on, digging for pants next. She rejoiced with a sob at finding a pair of black sweats.

  She stumbled as she put them on and a long roar came from the monitors, making her race back to it. She gave a strangled cry at finding them cutting his leg with a huge knife!

  “You can fucking kill me!” Mordecai roared. “You’ll never get her!”

  “Please God, please help me,” she pleaded, hurrying back to the gun. She filled the pants pockets with bullets only to have the weight pull them down her hips. Please! She found the drawstring on the inside of the pants and tightened them as much as she could.

  She had no idea how to even use the bullets, no idea how to use the gun. She only knew you had to pull the trigger. She studied the gun once more, working at all its mechanisms. The section under the gun suddenly slid back then forward with a familiar cocking sound and motion she’d seen in movies. God let it mean it’s ready to fire.

  She hurried to the door and froze. God no. She turned back to the monitors with a sick dread, needing to find out which room they were in. Hurrying back, she fought not to watch what they were doing, sobbing when he let go of another roar of rage mixed with agony.

  “The workout room!” she gasped. “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

  She ran for the door and stared at the metal wall with no handle. Come on!

  She searched left and right along the cement wall, spotting a red emergency something. She hurried to it, placing the gun against her shoulder as the next dilemma hit her. What was it for? Would it set off an alarm? “Shit,” she strained, stepping back and searching again. Her eyes snagged on something near the floor and she leaned down to make it out. A black box, a plain black box, no damn words.

  She spotted a button on the top and raised her foot. “Please don’t let this be an alarm.” She pressed it and metal locks disengaged, bringing a wave of triumph as the door creaked ajar. The pitch black of the closet brought sudden terror and she gripped the gun tightly. Gathering her courage, she pushed the door open more with her foot, fighting to see into the inky space.

  She crept forward until she reached his room. Pausing at the closet doorway, she glanced around, listening. A sudden sense of urgency sped up her pulse. Please don’t let them kill him.

  Making it to the door, she listened again then opened it, slipping into the dark hallway. They were all in that room. She needed to hurry before that changed.

  Taking the stairs quickly, she slowed a little when approaching the first floor. The lights were on down there, exposing her. The idea made her run for the kitchen. Her bare feet reached the hard tile and made her movements undetectable.

  Her heart hammered relentlessly, and her lungs burned to suck in more air. But she forced her breaths to near normal so she could hear.

  Moving down the long hall to the workout room was a nightmare. She gripped the gun tighter as her eyes moved from the garage door, the workout room door, and then behind her.

  Finally reaching the room, she listened with trembling breaths.

  “Just finish him. She’ll show up. All her shit’s still here.”

  “How do we want to do it?” another voice asked.

  Miriam listened, waiting to hear that third voice.

  “What about Razor? He said to leave no evidence.”

  “That was for her idiot, not Mordecai.”

  That was the third person. She clutched the gun harder, her breaths increasing as she prepared. Please God, please help me. Guide me and protect me.

  She quietly opened the door and slipped quickly in, aiming the gun in their direction. “Get away from him,” she said her voice wobbly.

  The three men snapped their heads her way as her brain calculated. Ten. Ten feet between them and her.

  “You think she knows how to use that thing?” one of them asked.

  “How about you test her?” the other suggested.

  The one who’d asked if she could use the gun turned fully toward her with his hands out. “There’s no need for violence.”

  “Don’t take a step,” she warned, her body shaking. “I’ll shoot.”

  He eyed her with a half smirk and concerned brow. “Will you?” He then took a careful step in obvious taunting.

  Miriam aimed the gun lower and held on tight as she pulled the trigger. The force of the blast rocked her back several steps. She stared. Oh God. Her breaths came in pants as she gazed through the gaping hole in his stomach before he dropped to his knees. She’d meant to shoot him in the leg!

  “Oh God, I’m sorry,” she whispered as the other two men stared at her with apprehension. “Don’t move!” she screamed when one stepped toward Mordecai. She remembered to cock the gun, sliding the casing back then forward. “This is self-defense,” she said, her voice breaking on a sob. “You… you did this, you killed that man! Move! Away from him!”

  The man ran for Mordecai and she fired, trying to aim at the floor while praying she didn’t shoot Mordecai.

  “I’ll kill him!” the guy seethed, holding a knife to an unconscious Mordecai’s throat. At seeing his abused face, she realized how bad this could end. She had to find a way, she had to help him.

  “You do that,” she seethed right back, remembering to cock the gun again. “It’ll be you or me to kill him because I sure as hell didn’t come back to thank him for what he’s done.”

  The guy closest lunged for her and she turned the gun at him and shot. He flew backward through the air and landed in the pool like a horror movie. Tears threatened to cloud her vision as she blinked rapidly with ragged breaths.

  The guy hiding behind Mordecai suddenly ran toward the door and she pulled the trigger before she could stop herself. The gun didn’t fire. She quickly cocked it, aiming it at the door as it shut. Oh God. Where was he going, where was he going?

  What if he found the guns?

  She hurried to Mordecai and knelt before him. “Mordecai, wake up,” she sobbed to his lowered
head. “Please hurry and wake up, please!”

  ****

  Mordecai fought to reach the surface, clawing through the darkness holding him down in the deep pit. He could hear his name, and now he was able to make out who was calling him. Miriam.

  The idea she was in trouble gave him a surge of adrenalin and he burst through that barrier with a huge suck of air.

  “Oh my God!” she cried, some place near him. “You’re not dead!”

  Dead? Why would he be dead? He fought to open his eyes and realized they were sealed shut somehow.

  It all slammed into him, what had happened. “Miriam,” he slurred around his swollen lips.

  “What do I do, I killed them. There’s one more, he left, what if he comes back?”

  Killed them? One left? Fuck.

  “Help me stand,” he mumbled, reaching blindly. Her small arm found his hand and he used it to pull himself to his feet. He groaned and stifled the agony of fractured bones and shredded ligaments. “The garage,” he growled. “Get us there.”

  “Okay, okay, the garage,” she repeated.

  “Slow… your breathing,” he managed, needing her calmer.

  “Okay, okay, okay. Right, I’m sorry, slowing my breathing. Heading to the door, you’re doing great. Lean on me as much as you need.” A sob escaped her with that.

  “Stop crying,” he bit. “I need you… to be quiet. Who is still here?”

  “I-I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “What did he look like?”

  “We’re at the door, wait, let me make sure the coast is clear,” she said.

  He leaned against the wall, grunting in agony, his body shaking.

  “Come on,” she whispered, her small hand tugging on his. “What are we doing in the garage?”