“Now use your left hand to clip your right hand to the belt around your waist.”
“Stop! Don’t, Jewels! Don’t do it,” Marshall yelled.
“Shut up,” Hines snapped at Marshall. Turning back to Jewels. “Do it, now! Otherwise...,” he warned, darting over to Marshall and twisting the razor edge of the knife in front of his face, “your Fed hero gets filleted.”
Contorting her body to reach at the clip positioned to the rear and side on the belt, she bound her right hand to the waist.
“Very good,” Hines praised in a dirty guttural tone. Padding over to the fireplace, he slipped the MP-5 off his shoulder, parking it on the floor. Opening the cabinet, he withdrew two more leather pieces that looked like thin one-inch belts. One was substantially longer than the other. Trotting back to Jewels, he tossed the belt on the bed then dropped to his knees, approaching her left side on all fours. Cautiously. Curiously. Like a caveman investigating a new creature, he nuzzled his face close to hers.
Jewels dared not move. His breath was hot, foul, like he had eaten a spoonful of spoiled goat’s milk then gargled with it. “Theo, please stop. You’re scaring me,” she pleaded, pushing her free hand into his chest while leaning her torso away from his body.
Eyes widening with delight, he grabbed her free arm, brutally twisting it behind her to quickly fasten her wrist to the waist belt. “It’s called the forced kneel restraint,” he whispered in her ear. “Guaranteed impossible to escape from.”
Straining to no avail to reach the clips binding her hands and feet to the torturous harness, Jewels resorted to fighting the restraint, foolishly wiggling about, jerking her limbs and contorting her body. Only pitiful whimpers of torment and frustration escaped.
Laughing, “Good, I like a seeing-is-believing girl.” After watching her struggle a moment longer, he pounced on her neck, planting his mouth against it and sucking hard.
“Stop it!” Wildly, Jewels struggled in the harness. Twisted and turned her body. Violently yanked her arms. Tried to kick her legs. But the restraint maintained its escape-proof guarantee.
“You want a fight, pervert, come over here,” Marshall yelled, obviously attempting to distract Hines and draw his attention away from Jewels, but his tactics didn’t faze Hines.
Jewels continued to beg for Hines to stop, but he persisted, ferociously licking and biting her neck and face. Then just as quickly as he started, he relented, retracting his body.
Collapsing on her side, she shivered.
Snatching two leather belts off the bed, he latched his hand onto her arm, yanking her back into a kneeling position.
“Theo, you’re hurting me—”
“Shhhhh,” he said, quieting her by slapping his hand over her mouth and snapping her head backward.
Eyes pinched shut, Jewels’ jaw quivered under his powerful hand.
“Let’s get your elbows taken care of,” he calmly stated, removing his hand from her mouth to wrap the longer of the leather belts around her upper arms, just above the elbows. With a wicked pull of the belt, he jerked her elbows closer together, causing her back to severely arch and breasts to thrust forward.
Shrieking in pain, Jewels twisted in agony. Reminded of Cooman’s words telling her the Commander had a knack for kinky sex and torture, she never imagined this. And certainly couldn’t fathom how much further his sadistic bondage fantasies might go. Unfortunately, she knew she was doomed to find out.
Spreading his fingers wide across the back of her skull, he forced her head deep into the mattress as if to smother her.
Under his complete control, her resistance amounted to a few violent shifts of her bound body.
Gathering her long hair in his free hand to make a loose ponytail, he cleared her neckline. Keeping her face firmly buried in the mattress, he fastened a leather collar around her neck then fluffed her hair out over her shoulders before finally letting her head up.
Gasping for air, Jewels turned her head to the side and rested it on the bed.
Continuing to yell all manner of obscenities at Hines to distract him from Jewels, to which Hines remained undaunted, Marshall toiled to free himself of the leather strap tethering him to the wall. Jewels had tied the knots tighter than he expected.
Next, from the heap of leather Hines had tossed on the bed after Jewels admitted she remembered he was the Commander, he straightened two leash-type pieces and attached them to the D-rings on either side of the collar. The opposite end of one he fastened to the corner log of the headboard, the other to the footboard.
Anchored so she couldn’t move forward or backward or from side to side, she now knew how her horse felt when he was tied between the stall doors for a grooming session: helpless.
Returning to the fireplace cabinets, Hines retrieved something else.
Twisting her head to watch him, “Theodore, you’re scaring me. Please talk to me,” Jewels begged. “What are you going to do to me?”
SHHHWICKKKK! Cracked the flogger in reply to her question.
As the thin rubber strands bit hard and deep into the exposed muscles of her bare back and triceps, she bellowed a window-rattling shriek, violently recoiling her body as much, or as little, as the brutal harness would allow. The collar prevented her from toppling on her side in hideous pain. Tears flooded her face as she gasped for air. Was this the cat punishment Cooman had threatened her with?
“Hines, get your coward-ass over here, you dickless bastard,” Marshall baited.
But Hines wasn’t biting. Leaning over to look Jewels in her eyes, “Doesn’t that feel good, Sweet Cheeks?” he taunted, a look of demented joy on his face, before stepping back behind her
“Noooo! Please don’t do this to me, Theo. I didn’t think you’d be a wife beater.”
SHHHWICKKKK! The whip cracked again.
In agony, Jewels screamed again. The pain was excruciating with the searing burn lasting long after the rounded thong tails of the brutally handled flogger had vacated her quivering body.
Wincing at Jewels’ screams of torment, Hines’ sexual fantasy was playing out to be far more sadistic than he had ever imagined with the doll. Really, he didn’t want to hurt her that badly or make her cry out in torturous pain. Rather, he wanted her to moan in pleasurable pain. Certainly there was a difference, as far as he was concerned.
Red welts instantly bubbled up on Jewels’ body from the savage kisses of the dozens of long rubber tails that had assaulted her naked back and bare arms.
The veins in Marshall’s neck protruded like ropes as he strained to free himself. “Come on you piece of shit! Show me what you got,” Marshall taunted, trying to lure Hines away from Jewels.
Annoyed with Marshall’s bad mouth, Hines set his jaw, circled the whip for a third strike.
The whirling tails whooshed a dreadful sound, like a fire-breathing dragon deeply inhaling readying to exhale a scorching path of destruction.
Pinching her eyes shut, Jewels held her breath, tensed her body, braced herself in anticipation of another heavy handed strike.
SHHHWICKKKK! Once again the tails of the rubber flogger viciously ripped across bare flesh.
Automatically cringing, but feeling nothing, she peeked through one squinted eye to witness the whip recoil from across Marshall’s bruised chest.
“I’m gonna rip your fuckin’ arms off,” Marshall growled, his teeth bared, lips snarling, eyes firing hate.Turning to Jewels, “The obnoxious MTAF man took that one for you, Sweet Cheeks,” he barked, tossing the device of torment across the room. Plunging his hands on his hips, he gazed down at Jewels in judgment.
Body trembling, head hanging, she wept. Her back and triceps were covered in hideous swollen ridges that felt as painful as they looked.
“Now, now, Sweet Cheeks,” he calmly said, gently stroking the top of her head like he had just finished a training session with a dog. “No more tears,” he ordered, before shuffling over to the fireplace.
Sniffling, she raised her head slightly, eyed
Marshall. They exchanged glances of relief. At least that phase of Hines’ lunacy seemed to be over. She peeked over her shoulder at Hines.
Pacing the floor, he nibbled on his right thumbnail and held his forehead with his left hand. His eyes were wild and searching. Face had a crazed look about it reminding her of one of the scenes from the movie “The Shining” where Jack Nicholson’s character had gone nuts.
It was apparent FBI Special Agent In Charge Theodore Hines was about to lose it. Jewels’ vibes warned she must try to calm him down, befriend him, otherwise he might kill both Marshall and her.
Sniffling, “Excuse me, Theodore,” she called out as sweetly as she could.
Marshall looked at her like she’d metamorphosed into a three-headed alien.
Picking up the MP-5, he eagerly rushed to her side. “Yes, Sweet Cheeks?” he said, hope in his voice.
“I thought since I was going to be your wife, maybe I should get to know you a little better. You know, maybe we could talk.”
Now it was Hines who was looking at her as though she were a three-headed alien.
Feigning a sweet smile, “Come on. Let’s talk,” she said, winking at him.
Melting to his knees at her side, he released her neck from the collar.
“Oh, thank you, Theodore,” she said, deep gratitude in her voice.
He blushed like a schoolboy.
Maintaining the forced smiled while charmingly batting her eyelashes at him, she turned her head from side to side to loosen her stiff neck.
Watching her for a moment, he began liberating her. Jewels’ eyes cut to Marshall as Hines fumbled to free her from the restraints. She winked at him.
Marshall nodded, dispensed a keep-up-the-good-work look in reply, winked back at her.
“There you go,” Hines said, releasing the last clip of the forced-kneel harness and removing the wide belt from around her waist.
Sitting back on her buttocks and straightening her legs, Jewels stretched her arms above her head and twisted back and forth at the waist. Though her body screamed in pain, “Much better,” she said, forcing a smile while doing her best to conceal the agony that came naturally to her face. Lowering her arms, she reached to unbuckle the strap around her left wrist.
Swiftly, he plastered his hand on top of hers to stop her from loosening the buckle. “Leave that on.”
Shrugging, she wiggled her wrists like she was playing with new bangle bracelets. “Funky jewelry,” she said, pretending they didn’t bother her. Leaning forward, she reached to unfasten the leather cuff around her right ankle.
“Leave those, too,” Hines said, grabbing her wrist.
Though grimacing from the intensity of his grasp, she didn’t fight him. Instead remained calm, wanting him to believe she was genuinely interested in talking to him and was eager to obey his wishes ... much like an obedient dog. Nodding in agreement and leaving the straps securely fastened as he had instructed, “Okay, Theo,” she said, beaming her best plastic smile.
Eyes were bright, brimming with anticipation, “What do you want to talk about?” he quizzed, releasing his hand from her wrist.
“This floor is terribly cold and hard. Do you mind if we sit on the side of the bed?” she asked, doing her best to charm him.
“Oh, golly, no,” he said in a Clark Kent tone of innocence, a boyish phrase he might have used with his mother. Bolting to his feet, he offered a helping hand.
Graciously she accepted, her mannerisms ladylike.
Gentlemanly, he helped her to her feet.
Sweetly smiling, she brushed the embedded grime off her legs and butt then took a seat on the bed near the headboard, her body turned slightly inward.
Submachine gun in hand, he parked near the footboard with his body also turned slightly inward, but in the opposite direction so he was facing her and within arm’s reach.
Squeezing her long legs tightly together, she rubbed her goosebump splattered arms.
Swiping his FBI jacket off the footboard, “Forgive me. I should have realized you’d be cold,” he said, draping the windbreaker over her shoulders.
Gladly accepting the coat, she slid her arms into the sleeves and bundled up in it, ignoring the throbbing pain from the whipping. “Theodore, you can be so thoughtful,” she said, tenderly touching his arm as if he were a dear friend.
“So what do you want to know about me?” he asked, the MP-5 slung forward over his shoulder, muzzle pointing at her gut.
“Well, if I’m going to be your wife, I suppose I should know about you. Your family. Why you chose me....”
“Okay. I don’t have any family. I’m an only child. My mother’s dead and my father left when I was only seven.” Pushing to his feet, leaving the MP-5 swinging from the shoulder harness, he stuffed his hands in his pants pockets, staring off toward the door. “You know, a little boy should have his father around when he’s growing up,” he said dreamy-eyed.
Shaking her head in silent agreement, “I bet you and your mother were close.”
Wheeling around, he plopped on the bed, taking up both of Jewels’ hands in his. “Oh, yes. And you remind me so much of her.”
“Oh?”
Gazing fondly into Jewels’ eyes, “Your hair is long and blonde, like hers. Your face has an angelic quality about it, like hers. And...,” pausing, and acting shy, “your body ... you are even more shapely and beautiful than she was ... more so than I ever imagined.”
Slowly retracting her hands from his touch, “Well thank you, Theodore.”
Staring blankly over Jewels’ head, tears welled-up in his eyes. Biting his lip, “Father would have stayed if she wouldn’t have cheated on him ... four times.”
Glimpsing over at Marshall, she raised her eyebrows to sport a get-a-load-of-this look.
Silently, Hines maintained a fixed gaze on the wall behind Jewels. Suddenly his eyebrows knitted. Eyes narrowed. Grabbed Jewels’ upper arms. Shook her hard once. “But no. The cunt had to screw around,” he snarled, globs of spit pelting Jewels’ face, neck and arms. “That’s why I had to remove that dirty organ from those women.”
Wildly blinking, “What women?” she pried, bridling the urge to contest his painful grasp.
Releasing Jewels’ arms, he sprung off the bed, hugged the MP-5 to his side. “Come on, I’ll show you,” he said, snatching Jewels’ right wrist, just above the restraint cuff.
Towing her to the kitchen area, he reached behind the wall cabinet. The secret room door popped open about a foot. Extending his hand inside, he smacked his palm against the battery-powered light to turn it on. Swinging the door open wide, “Go ahead in,” he instructed Jewels, pushing his hand against her back to nudge her forward.
Reluctantly, she stepped into the pantry-sized room.
Slithering past her, he pointed to the four jars consecutively labeled #1 through #4 MOMMA. “See, these are the evil things. And I have a SWEET CHEEKS jar labeled and ready to add to my collection.”
Reflexively, she curled up her nose and recoiled her body, arms automatically folding tightly over her chest. “What happened to the women?” she asked, her voice rattling with fear.
“Buried ‘em behind the cabin,” he casually answered.
“I see,” Jewels responded, forcing herself to remain composed. As a distraction to keep from screaming bloody murder, she visually explored his treasure shelves. A silver wedding band caught her eye. Dashing to it, she picked it up, reading the inscription aloud: “To my beloved Robert who holds the key to my heart. Jewels.”
Gasping, she dropped the ring, staring wide-mouthed at Hines who scooped up the band off the ground and slipped it on his ring finger. Gulping for air, “Where did you get that?”
Rubbing the ring affectionately, “From Robert. The day I rigged that huge roll of newspaper to drop on him.”
“You killed Robert?” Jewels cried, her voice ascending to a murderous falsetto.
“Yeah, so?” Hines replied, with a shrug as if admitting to something as trivial
as being a subscriber to “Playboy” magazine.
“Why did you kill him?”
“When I met you, I asked you to go out with me. Do you remember what you said?”
Jewels negatively shook her head.
“You said, and I quote: I’m happily married to the most wonderful man in the world and I’m very much in love with him. But thank you anyway. End of quote. That’s exactly what you said.”
In motionless silence, Jewels stood stunned. Her mind wandered into the deep dark folds of the drapes of her psyche, discovering a moth hole of pure rage. Somehow, someway, she was going to kill Theodore Hines.
The touch of his hand on her arm made her cringe. “Now what else do you want to talk about?”
Turning around, she scanned the shelves on the other side, eyes fixing on a group of dolls, brutally bound in various positions. The forced kneel restraint she recognized. Her facial muscles twitched nervously. Had to get out of there. “Let’s talk about us, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to sit on the bed. I’m feeling a little weak,” she said, swiping her forehead with the back of her hand.
Agreeing with a smile, he quickly stepped outside the secret room. Standing sideways in the doorway, leaving little space for her to pass by, he gestured for her to exit.
Anxious to leave the creepy room, yet apprehensive, she inhaled deeply then rapidly slinked by the murdering bastard. As their bodies made contact an automatic shiver of repulsion jolted her entire being. If he noticed, he didn’t react.
The instant she was clear of the door, he vigorously bumped it shut with his shoulder, heard the immediate click indicating the secret lever engaged, then followed Jewels back to the bed, gun aimed at the middle of her back.
Each sat on the edge of the mattress. Jewels near the head of the bed, her body angled toward Marshall, and Hines near the footboard facing Jewels, purposely targeting the muzzle of the MP-5 at her abdomen.
“Tell me about you. Your hobbies, your ambitions...,” she said to Hines, her eyes cutting to Marshall.
Waving his hands above his head, Marshall showed he was not only free of the leather thong anchoring him to the wall, but also of the cuffs.
Mistaken Trust (The Jewels Trust Series) Page 37
