Smoke

by C. P. Mandara

  “Enough talking. Let’s add a little more strain to this challenge.” Adie walked behind me and added another two weights. My arms immediately tensed and the look on my face was now worried.

  "You can feel that, huh?" Adie came back around to face me, probably to gloat. I watched him through lowered eyes, and the anger I was feeling could have filled the room, but it didn't seem to bother him in the slightest.

  “Why aren’t you behind me piling on more weights?” I asked sourly.

  “Because I want to do this first.” My suit suddenly sprang to life and electric current shot through me from all angles. Wobbling on my heels for a minute, I nearly let go of the bar, but somehow just managed to save it at the last minute.

  “Your instincts are very good, Thirty-Eight. Some around these parts might even say too good.” Oh shit. This was too much coincidence. He knew. The bastard knew.

  “Rubbish. I’m one of the first slaves that has ever tried to win this competition. It’s as simple as that. Withdraw all your threats, and I’m sure some of the others would give you a run for your money as well.” Holding the bar was now becoming increasingly difficult as the electric current through my nipples and clit was making me want to weave this way and that. Somehow I managed to stay still, but it was a constant battle not to move.

  “I don’t think so. You’re very smart, fit, and exceptionally agile. I think you’re one of the only women here who could probably complete the course – all of it – if given half a chance.”

  Adie moved in closer to me, and I could feel his warm breath fanning out over my neck. His hand then closed gently around my breast, and even though it was encased in plastic, the feeling, when combined with all the electricity flowing through me, was damn near magical. I moaned, but only because I couldn't help it.

  "Oh, Thirty-Eight. You're going to give me trouble, aren't you?" Adie sounded positively excited at the prospect and was back to his Spanish purr. It sent my body into paroxysms of delight, and the pulse that was beating between my legs doubled in speed. Clenching tightly, I tried to breathe, but found even that was impossible. Adie, on the other hand, was in his element.

  “Hold that bar tight, slave. It’s time to add another weight.” The man almost danced around behind me with excitement. If murder hadn’t been on my mind, it certainly was now.

  "Already?" I braced myself for misery, and sure enough, when the weight banged down, I let out a little screech of pain.

  "Ahh, so now we're getting somewhere." He was back in front of me within seconds, gloating over the obvious discomfort I was in. Tracing a path down my cheekbone with his finger, he grinned when I trembled. The bar wobbled precariously in my grip, and the amount of strain my arms were under was colossal.

  “Why don’t you just give up now, Thirty-Eight? What have you got to prove to me?” His fingers moved downward until his thumb touched my lower lip. Tracing a soft line upon it, he continued back and forth until I whimpered.

  "Don't," I pleaded. Trying to control my attraction while at the same time doing my best to keep the bar down past my shoulders was proving more than I could handle. The bar kept tugging brutally at my upper arms, and I was grinding my teeth together to maintain the strain. Adie's presence made everything doubly difficult, and I was beginning to reach the end of my tether.

  "That lithe little body of yours is far too tempting for me to stop now, slave." Adie pressed himself up against me so I could feel the indentation of his cock above my waist, and we sat there locked in a stare I would never be able to break.

  “Drop it.” The giant silver bar loomed between us, and it was probably the only thing preventing me from having Adie’s lips all over me. There was absolutely no way I would let go of it now.

  “Make me.” I got the two words out through my teeth, which were still firmly clamped together. My arms were now on fire, and it felt like someone was trying to stretch them to twice their original size. If Adie loaded one more weight upon the machine, I would be finished.

  “Sounds like fun. Maybe I’ll have a go.” Taking a step back, Adie’s fingers came up between my legs. Even though I was still wrapped in plastic, I could feel the heat of his fingers against the vibrations of the pad that was currently buzzing away inside me. The promise of what they could do taunted me, but I knew better than to expect anything would come of it.

  Pressing his fingers firmly into my flesh, I resisted the urge to take a step backwards. I knew I would not recover from the manoeuvre. It was all I could do to hold my position as it was.

  “Do you think I could make you come through all this plastic?” Adie’s fingers were pulsing into my suit now, just above my clit, and if he dropped them just a centimetre or so, I was going to lose the plot. Keeping my head held high, I didn’t say a word. He could figure out the answer to his question all by himself.

  "I think I could. I think you could come without very much help at all, Thirty-Eight." His fingers dropped down that elusive centimetre and hovered against me. I held my breath, while my arms began wobbling so hard the bar in front of me shook.

  “How many minutes have I got left?” I whispered. I needed to know. If it was any more than one, I might as well give up now.

  Adie looked at his watch, amused. "What's up, Thirty-Eight? Are you trying to figure out whether you can last the distance?" He watched my arms shake, and grinned. "Two minutes. Think you can last out two minutes?" He began to pulse his finger against my clit and with the added help of the vibrations that were being transported all around my body, he nearly sent me over the edge immediately, but through sheer force of will, I managed to hold myself back. The effort involved was incredible and quite possibly one of the hardest things I have ever done because never have I wanted to come quite this badly before – but somehow I managed to hold back. Twenty seconds later, I was still standing, and giving Adie the evilest stare I could muster.

  “You know, Thirty-Eight, given half a chance, I think I could fall in love with you,” Adie mused, and he kissed the tops of my quivering knuckles even though I continued to glare at him. “Hmm, now do I make you come, or do I add another weight to the already impressive tally you’re carrying? Decisions, decisions.” His fingers were moving furiously against me now, doing a rapid little dance that had my breath coming in gasps. With his other hand, he reached over and picked up another black, rectangular weight. Without moving his hand from my legs, he managed to stretch around me, and I knew that last weight would be the end of me. I felt like screaming.

  “I’ve come so close to winning, and you’re determined to see me fail in the last thirty seconds?”

  “Get used to failure, Thirty-Eight. You won’t be winning anything on my watch.” Adie then turned around as a loud scream rang through the air. I swear that man could smell pain, and the sound clearly had him intrigued, thank God. I needed him distracted.

  As the last weight clanged down loudly, my arms finally gave out as the first waves of orgasm crashed down upon me, even though Adie's fingers had now disappeared. I didn't hang around to enjoy them, though. I was too busy untying the single knot that held me to the pulley system. I'd had my eye on it and Dumortier's whereabouts throughout the whole of this last challenge, and now that my hands were free and my legs were unfettered, I intended to make the most of the situation. With trembling hands, I somehow managed to wrench the knot free, and I managed to save my ass from destruction in the nick of time. Reeling in all of the loose string, some of which was still firmly attached behind me, I set my sights on my target.

  Sprinting across the room as fast as my legs would carry me, I reached Dumortier's back before anyone was any the wiser. Oh, there were a few shocked glances as I sprinted off, but the girls knew better than to make too much noise. Besides, they were occupied with their own challenges or being punished for not managing to complete them. In any case, all of this allowed me to creep up on him and wrap my thin nylon rope around his neck. Although I'd hoped for a ‘less public' assassination, I was prepa
red to take whatever I could get to protect the rest of my family and friends.

  As the cord sunk deep into his windpipe, I finally allowed myself a glimmer of a smile. Finally, Dumortier was mine, and he was going to pay.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ten men were needed to get me off him, but it took them a considerable amount of time, especially as I’d backed up against the wall with Dumortier’s body in front of me. All I wanted was a few precious seconds to make sure the man was well and truly dead before I released my garotte. My father always said if a job was worth doing, it was worth doing well – and I heartily agreed with him, but especially so in this case.

  It was only when everyone crushed around me that they finally managed to tear me away from my objective. Even when they did so, I still had a firm grip of the nylon thread, and it took a further two people to get the noose I had made back over his neck. By that time, I figured the assignment was done, anyway. I'd successfully crushed his windpipe, and unless they had a medical facility right on their doorstep, Dumortier was as good as dead.

  “What the fuck have you done?” Adie was towering over me, and the look he gave me was incredulous. Meanwhile several of the slaves had scooped Dumortier up and were already carrying him from the room.

  One of the gentlemen who had been participating in our monstrous fun and games session turned to Adie, and even though his eyes were covered with thick-rimmed tan spectacles, there was no mistaking his severe expression.

  “Geraud is going to want her head on a platter when he wakes up. Better take her somewhere safe, Alain.” Due to all the adrenaline running through my system, it took me a couple of moments to digest that little sentence, but when I did the bottom suddenly dropped out of my world. Geraud. The man I just killed was Geraud? I closed my eyes in horror as I suddenly figured out what I'd been missing all along. I stared at Adie, and my blood went cold. His name wasn't Adie. They were just using his initials – A.D. That meant I'd just killed the wrong man. Holy hell. The man standing in front of me was Geraud's son. How had I not seen this before?

  The next thing I knew, I was being dragged out of the room, amidst a massive ruckus, which had people running all over the place. The girls were screaming, shouting and crying, and the men were like rats deserting a sinking ship. A slave was manhandling me forward, while Adie was barking orders at him. Trying to bust free from his big, meaty hands proved fruitless, so trying to make a rush at Adie was not going to happen. I think it was safe to admit I'd well and truly fucked things up for this assignment and I wouldn't be getting another shot at the prize. At the moment, Adie was visibly shaking, and this didn't come as much of a surprise – considering I'd just murdered his father. The look on his face as I left the room would haunt me for the next three days. It was as white as a freshly bleached sheet, and his eyes were filled with fear. It was not a look I had ever seen on him before, and it didn't suit him. I wonder if he realised that my intended target had been him? At the end of the day, it wasn't going to matter too much. He would kill me, after torturing me for information, and I'd just have to hope that he got bored of me quickly. Oh, God. What have you just done?

  They put me in what can only be described as a hole. It was a cell not more than five feet in any direction, and there was no light source that I could discern. The thing felt like a coffin, and they kept the temperature in there extraordinarily warm. I guessed they wanted me dehydrated, and if that was the case, they were doing a damn good job.

  It had taken four slaves to place me in a black, heavily re-enforced, plastic straight-jacket, and each man had suffered in the process. One had a black eye, one would probably have a concussion, one had a rather nasty sprained ankle, and the last had walked away with a dislocated shoulder – unless I was much mistaken. It was the least I could do. Besides, I didn’t come away from the experience unscathed. I had bruises and scrapes all over my body, and a nasty cut above my eyebrow that would not stop bleeding. When they’d finished with me, they left me chained by a single ankle cuff to a D-ring in the floor. Holy shit. I was about to spend the night in skin-tight bondage, pinned down to the ground.

  None of that concerned me as much it should have. It was what would happen next that had me terrified out of my skin. Perhaps that's what this was all about, making me sweat? If so, it had the desired effect.

  I'm not sure how long I spent rolling about on the floor. One moment, I thought it was a few hours, and in another, it could have been a week or more. With nothing to keep my mind occupied, the wait felt like an eternal prison sentence, at the end of which awaited an even more chilling death sentence. The agony of inactivity was unbearable, and I prayed to whoever was listening that someone would drag me out of here ASAP and get it over with. Unfortunately, it appeared that either the man upstairs had better things to do, or he was enjoying watching my suffering because no relief from my misery was forthcoming. When I finally gave in to kicking and screaming, just so I could hear something other than silence, I knew that I had reached a very dark place in my life.

  How long did they keep me down there for? I have no idea, but I do know that at one point I wondered if they would leave me there to die. When my lips had cracked through lack of water, and I could barely swallow, I almost wondered if life could get any worse – but didn't dare dwell on that thought for too long – because I knew it could. Even though my body was soaked in my own urine and excrement, the stench of which was so overpowering I wanted to gag every time I breathed, I knew that there were probably worse things waiting for me. The men outside these walls liked to play with their prey, and this was just the appetiser. They hadn't even started on the main course yet.

  When the door finally opened, letting the barest sliver of light penetrate my perpetual darkness, at first, I thought I was dreaming. My time between wakefulness and sleep had been getting harder to separate of late, probably due to the dehydration, and my imagination had been playing plenty of tricks on me. It was only when Adie got down on his heel in front of me and tipped my head up to meet his eyes that I knew this was real. Our chemistry was too powerful for anything I could dream up to come close.

  "Who's been a very naughty girl?" Adie's voice was nothing more than a soft Spanish purr, but I heard it. My ears had heard nothing for days, and they were now finely attuned to the smallest sound. Rolling over, I took my first good look at him and then grimaced when I saw what he had in his hands. It was a syringe, and it was full of something that I was sure would be unpleasant.

  “God, you stink, Thirty-Eight.” Adie covered his nose and mouth with one hand and made fan-like movements with the other. If he thought that would help, he was much mistaken because I had already tried it to no avail.

  “Fuck you. What’s in the syringe?” Adie slowly broke into a grin, and that trademark smile told me all I needed to know.

  “It would spoil the surprise if I told you now.” The look on his face was mock apologetic. At least, I thought it was. It was becoming apparent that Adie was one of the few men I was never going to be able to read properly, and that was going to be a problem. If I could just put a lid on the damn attraction I felt, that would be something. It was damn obvious the sentiment wasn’t reciprocated.

  “Come on, Thirty-Eight. Don’t look so glum. By the looks of you, you need some cheering up. Can’t have you committing suicide before the month’s out. Doesn’t set a good example for all the others, so stick your arm out like a good girl and take your medicine.” I wished him good luck with that. Trying to find a vein through the straight jacket I was wearing would be a little tricky.”

  Adie swiftly came to the same conclusion. “Ahh, good point, you can’t. So do we go in between the toes? It’s the best way to inject, sweetheart. You’ll look like a pro.” He took a look at my face and grinned. “This baby will give you a rush that will blow your mind.” The bastard winked at me.

  If I’d have had enough energy, I would have tried to head-butt him, but even that was beyond me at the moment. All I want
ed was water – an ocean of the stuff. A shower wouldn’t go amiss, either. Concentrate, Lois. I figured the syringe was probably filled with Heroin or at least something like it. What were the likely effects of Heroin and would I be able to cope with them?

  There'd be a pleasurable rush, which was the only positive thing to look forward to. Then I'd feel pleasantly drowsy and heavy until the effects of the drug wore off. On the negative side, there was a chance I could overdose on the very first shot. If Adie didn't kill me, the side effects were numerous. They included things like nausea and vomiting, confusion, sensitivity to light, lower body temperature than normal, and slowed respiration and heart rate, which could also interfere with my circulation.

  “Don’t do this.” My voice cracked and was almost too sore to use. There was absolutely no point in saying anything, either. Adie had never listened to me before, and he was extremely unlikely to begin now.

  "Come now, Thirty-Eight. I've never taken you for a coward. Take your medicine. Everything will seem much better in a minute, and then we can get you cleaned up."

  Yeah. When I was virtually catatonic and much easier to manage. Now that they knew what I was, no one would take any chances with me.

  Moving around my body, Adie picked up the foot that wasn't fettered and sat on it, placing it tightly between his legs. Summoning up any energy that I might have had left, I did my best to shake him off me, but every movement I made felt pathetic and sluggish. There was no fight left in me. What was the point? Even if I did manage to throw him off me and by some miracle Adie hit his head and knocked himself out, I'd still be pinned to the ground. My first priority was to get myself out of this room by any means necessary – and if that meant I had to get shot up, then I'd deal with that later. Besides – what choice did I have?