Her Essentia: Make sure she stays dead (Her Client Trilogy Book 3)

by Richard Verry

  Shuffling along, she felt like she was making slow progress, to where she had no idea. She only felt the pain and anguish in her heart by the death of her friend Julie. It was years ago but she still maintained a hole in her heart, a hole that would never be filled. Not until she, at least, had an opportunity to apologize to Julie would she ever begin to heal. Consequently, she knew she would need to join her in death.

  Sound seemed to travel severe distances. Snapping her fingers, she could hear it travel far into the distance. Miniscule echoes bounced off the fog all around her. As she listened hard, she continued sliding one foot after the other in front of her. Going where, she had no idea.

  “Jol?”

  Jolene suddenly stopped. “Was someone calling to me?” she wondered straining to listen.

  “Jol” she heard again. Faint but someone was definitely calling her name. However, no one called her Jol. No one, well except for Jul but that couldn’t be. If not Jul then who?

  “Jol?”

  “Jul, is that you?”

  “Jol,” Jolene heard again, softly echoing through the fog.

  “Jul, is that you?”

  “Go back Jol. Go back.”

  “Jul, is that you Jul? Is that really you?”

  “Go back Jol. Go back” she heard again.

  “Jul? I don’t understand.”

  “Jol, go back. You are still needed. Go back and finish what is necessary.”

  “Jul, I don’t understand. What do you mean by ‘go back’? What do you mean?” Jolene spoke out into the fog.

  “Jol, go back. Finish what you started. Finish what you vowed to do.”

  “Jul, I don’t understand. What do you mean to finish what I vowed to do?”

  “Jol, go fulfill your destiny. Go finish what you started.”

  “Jul, is that really you? If so, Jul, I am so sorry. It’s all my fault. Please forgive me.”

  “Jol, it was not your fault. It was mine. I don’t blame you … I should not have been driving. I was drunk and I could have killed you. No, you are not to blame. I am and I want you to know you need to forgive yourself.”

  “Jol, you also need to complete your vow. Fulfill your duty. Fulfill your destiny. Complete your vow.”

  “Jul, what vow? I don’t understand.”

  “Jol, go back and fulfill your vow. Destroy the monsters.”

  “Destroy the monsters? What monsters? Jul, I don’t understand. Talk to me, please.”

  Jolene stood there, waiting for an answer, her mind reeling with the conflicting thoughts and feelings coursing through her body. She couldn’t hear Jul anymore.

  “Jul, are you still there? Please speak to me?”

  Softly, as if from a great unfathomable distance, Jolene heard the fading voice.

  “Jol, fulfill … your destiny. Complete … your … vow. Destroy … the … monsters.”

  As the final words reached her ears, they faded away to nothing.

  Calling for Jul, for what seemed like hours, Jolene called after her friend and got no response. Dejected and bewildered, Jolene stood there evaluating what she would do. Something drew her to continue forward.

  Jul’s request though, how could she ignore it? Jul meant everything to her. Jul was everything she wasn’t. Jul was an innocent. Jolene was definitely not an innocent. How could she ignore what Jul asked? Moreover, what was this vow she needed to fulfill? What destiny?

  Standing there, feeling the pull to go forward, Jolene came to a decision. Placing one foot behind the other, she pirouetted and retraced her steps from whence she came.

  Chapter Six

  Stepping into his playroom, Jon stopped at the door and stared at the inert body still strapped to the torture bench. The cunt was still laying there, arms dangling from her shoulders, her legs still splayed out from either side of her hips. Laying there, her pussy open and exposed, even from here and in death, it still looked beautiful.

  “What do you know, her clit is still intact. How interesting,” he realized.

  He felt stirrings in his loins but, after all, the relief while in the shower, he had drained his balls. He still needed to rejuvenate them before he could act upon the stirrings.

  Walking up alongside the cunt, he walked around her, dragging his fingertips along her limp body. Around and around he walked. Dragging his fingertips along her still warm skin, he relived the torments she suffered from with an upturned smile.

  “Jeremy was right. She was a screamer," he commented to himself.

  Well, she would scream no more. He would need a replacement before too long.

  Squatting down in front of her face, he stared into her bloodshot unblinking eyes. Lowering her eyelids, he leaned and kissed her long on her lips. The kiss was tender; it was loving; it was real; it would be the only one.

  Standing up again, he made one more pass around her body before starting to unstrap. Undoing each buckle in turn, he flipped the leather strap aside, freeing her body little by little.

  In death, he wasn’t worried she would escape or tell tales.

  Finally, removing the clamp from her clit, the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly tingled and stood on end. “Did she react to the removal of the clamp?” he briefly considered.

  “Nah, it couldn’t be. How could she? The cunt is dead.”

  Deciding it was a muscle spasm bodies went through in death. He discarded the thought. No matter, patting her cunt and clit, he figured it must have been all in his imagination. With a hard spank to her ass and getting no reaction, he blew it off as nothing and continued with his task.

  Pulling out a knife, he cut the cord off her nipples and dropped it in the trash. Putting down the knife, he put the clamp away for next time. Having fun with the clamp, he vowed to use it again.

  Thirsty, he took another long look at the body before walking out of the room to fetch a bottle of water and a canvas to dispose of her body.

  “Too bad, I wasn’t able to paint her with my whips.” He lamented. “That would have been fun. She’d made an excellent addition to my trophy room,” he thought to himself. “Yes, it really was too bad.”

  While she would provide him with many hours of excitement and joy reliving these last couple of days, he knew her memory would fade in time, to be replaced with new ones. Her trophy would make an excellent reminder of the cunts screams.

  Considering what else he could use for her trophy, a sudden thought inspired him. Perhaps her decapitated head would do nicely. It would remind him of her screams.

  “Hmmm, that’s an idea. Mount her head with her mouth open in a perpetual scream. He could even incorporate the recordings of her screams into a speaker hidden in the head. Yes, that would do nicely,” he decided.

  Chapter Seven

  “Ewww” the bastard is kissing me. Jolene thought. “Shit, he’s kissing me, not a sloppy violent kiss either! Rather, a soft, tender, and romantic kiss.”

  “Ewww, what the fuck is the bastard doing by kissing me?”

  Jolene was slowly returning to consciousness. For how long she was out, she didn’t know. One thing she did know was she needed to remain completely still and play dead. Determined to control her body, she remained inert and limp. She must not react to anything he did to her.

  Not that it would be hard. She hurt and ached everywhere but nothing like she felt before consciousness left her. What was bothering her was her head hurt. It hurt more than it had ever hurt before. It throbbed and ached so much so, it was easy to forget aches and pains of the rest of her body.

  “What the hell did he do to me anyway?” she asked herself. “The last thing I remember was he was fucking my ass. What’s more, he wasn’t just fucking it. He was violently pounding away at it when suddenly her head hurt and she saw stars, big ones, and lots of them.”

  “Wait! … Did I die? Am I dead?” she asked herself. “Is that why my head hurts so much? Was I dead?”

  As she considered her situation, she decided that yes, indeed, he did kill her. Yet, s
he was … alive. Did she have Jul to thank? Oh, right. Jul told her to go back and complete her vow. Destroy the monsters. Well, damn it. That was exactly what she was going to do. Kill the bastard. I just need to be patient and wait for an opportunity.

  Returning her attention to the bastard who called himself Jon, she made sure she took very slow, very shallow, inconsequential breaths. No sense in letting the bastard know she was back. “Let him think I was dead.” She could use the surprise of rising from the dead to her advantage.

  Sensing him stand up, she followed him walking around her, dragging what appeared to be his fingers along her body. Once around, he stopped alongside her. A moment later, she could feel the strap around her wrist strap loosen and fall away. Her arm straps followed the wrist straps. As she followed him move around her, she felt each strap, one by one, loosen, and fall away from her.

  As he removed her leg straps, she took special care to force her legs to remain limp. Her instincts wanted to place her feet on the floor and run but now was not the time. Biding her time, she let them relax naturally.

  After all the straps were gone, she sensed him walk behind her and squat down.

  “What’s he doing?” she wondered.

  It took several minutes before he moved, all the while she was careful to not let on she was aware of him. When he finally moved, she felt him place the palm of his hand on her inner thigh, encircling her pussy with his fingers. A moment later, she felt him remove the clamp still firmly attached to her clit.

  With the release of the jaws of the clamp, pain shot from the clamps registering from a mild ‘2’ to ‘10’. She almost lost it by reacting. Holding her breath, she channeled her agony and absorbed it as best as she could. It was horrendous but she felt she managed it.

  Returning her senses to the bastard, she realized he was on edge, looking around as if he’d been caught red-handed, he was on alert. Realizing she was about to give herself away, she redirected her senses to remain absolutely, perfectly limp. It was a good thing too as she might have reacted at the hard smack on her ass that came moments later.

  Ultimately, she detected the signs indicating he had relaxed and returned to freeing her. A moment later, she felt his hands on her breast. Pulling on the cord tied to her nipple and feeling it stretch under the strain, she felt him pull out a knife and cut the cord away. Her nipple bounced back to normal, though complaining about the recent ordeal it experienced.

  Prepared, she dealt with the momentary complaint from her nipples. Apparently, she did all right, as the bastard did not detect her signs of life. A moment later, he freed her other nipple as blood flow resumed.

  Standing up and after placing the knife on the shelf near her, she sensed him walk over to the table filled with toys. Listening to him rummage around the table, she remained absolutely still and lifeless. Eventually, she felt him walk to the door, stop a moment and leave. Listening to his footstep recede in the distance, she flexed her leg muscles testing their responsiveness.

  Satisfied, she slowly lowered her legs to the floor and holding the bench, stood up on her own two feet.

  “One little victory, many more to go,” she thought, proud of herself and her achievement, shaky as it was.

  Picking up the knife just in case, unconcerned about her nakedness, she walked around the room to look for other weapons she could use against him. The knife was fine but in her weakened state, she knew she was no match for him. No, she needed something more powerful in order to incapacitate him.

  Walking over to the toy table, she scanned it quickly but didn’t see anything useful. After scanning the peg wall with the various whips and floggers hanging from their pegs, she quickly determined these would not help in this case.

  Spinning around, scanning the rest of the room, she finally noticed a small cabinet tucked away in the corner. Walking as quickly as she could, she stopped in front of the cabinet and opened the door. There in front of her, she found the perfect weapon, a substantial hammer with a nice broad head.

  “Perfect!” she remarked with glee.

  Snatching it, she ran over and stood behind the door. Crouching, ready to pounce, she awaited her prey.

  Chapter Eight

  Bottle of water in hand and carrying the canvas with the other, Jon returned to the toy room to finish cleaning up. Strolling down the hallway to the room, without so much as a thought to the task ahead, he strolled into the room and stopped short. The bench was empty.

  “What? Where the fuck was she?” he started to ask himself in shock.

  A moment later, he felt a hard blow on the back of his head. A galaxy of stars filled his field of vision and blackness fell upon him.

  ***

  Consciousness returning, a severe pounding in the back of his skull, he slowly regained his senses.

  “What the hell happened?” he thought to himself.

  As his senses returned to him, he started to sit up. Only he couldn’t. Testing his limbs, he realized he’d been bound to the same bench as the cunt. But instead of being face down as she had been, he was lying face up, his back supported while his arms were pulled painfully down below him and strapped to either side of the bench.

  “What the fuck?” he asked himself.

  Attempting to move his legs, he again found they also were strapped to the bench. What’s more, he was naked. Aghast, he realized he was now wearing the leather electrocution collar.

  “The bitch” he screamed in his head. Aloud, he screamed something else. “Release me you cunt!”

  “So you’re awake” he heard coming from the shadows. “Good. Shall we get started?”

  Bewildered, he saw her walk towards him, his knife in her one hand and a short stingy flogger in the other. She was still naked; her welts were a testament to her determination for revenge. Her face looked bland though her mouth tilted up at the edges. She walked to him with a stance of determination.

  Yelling to be released, he vowed he would kill the bitch, again.

  “Kill me? You already did that. Now, I’m back from the dead. Let’s see if you can kill me a second time. Or, will it be you who will die this time?”

  “Unstrap me now, you cunt. I may just let you live but I promise you, if you don’t, right now, I’ll kill you for good this time.”

  “Oh, big words from the bastard who tortures women to get himself off,” she taunted him.

  Continuing, she added. “Well let me tell you something, you will never get it up again, not ever! Nor will you get off torturing and killing women and girls.”

  “Oh really,” he snapped right back sarcastically. “What do you think you can do to me? Are you going to torture me as I tortured you? You don’t have it within you. You’re just like all the others. You could never do to me what I did to you. Don’t make me laugh.”

  “Well, Jon. Let’s find out, shall we? You see, death changes a person. I did die, so does did I change as a result? I know I did. If you don’t believe me, well I really don’t care whether you do or not. However, you will come to believe it. As surely as you are now suspecting that I mean what I say.”

  “Bitch!” he yelled as she approached him. When he saw her approach wielding the knife and flogger, he screamed at her all the louder.

  Chapter Nine

  “So, imagine that. What do you suppose you’re doing there?” Jolene taunted her tormentor, now spitting epitaphs at her. Holding up the knife in front of his eyes, she let him take a moment to watch light reflect across its shiny surface.

  “See this, Jon. With this knife, your knife I might add. I’m going to make sure you never, ever rape another woman again. In fact, you’ll never fuck anyone for that matter.”

  As she said this, brandishing the knife, she dragged it along his cheek, tracing a bloody line down its length. Enjoying the power she felt in the reversed situation, she chuckled watching the bead of blood rising from his cheek. She enjoyed it so much she decided to cut a matching bead across the other one.

  “I’m so going
to kill you, bitch!” Jon screamed at her.

  “I think you’re delusional Jon. Kill me, I don’t think so.” Jolene taunted right back. As she did so, she stabbed his hand with such force, the knife passing right through his hand to the other side and imbedding itself in the wood.

  Smiling, she stood back watching him scream and thrash, trying in vain to free his hand only to make the damage worse.

  Jolene’s smile turned into laughter, enjoying his distress. As her laughter continued, his screaming got worse. Blood spilled from the wound, dripping onto the floor where it pooled in several spots. As she watched the blood ooze, she grabbed the hilt of the knife and wiggled it back and forth, cutting him further. Pulling the knife from his hand, she held it above his head, watching his own blood drip into his mouth.

  Spitting, Jon tried to avoid the dripping blood landing in his mouth. Quickly spinning his head back and forth, he was barely successful. Jolene kept pace with his thrashing and got most of the blood to land in or on his mouth.

  “Taste good Jon?” she taunted him while laughing at the same time.

  “Fuck you cunt!”

  “Ah, you did that already. Too bad, it’s not going to happen again. Do you remember what I said earlier? Never gonna happen again.”

  “Fuck you cunt!” He repeated, almost yelling.

  “In your dreams” she replied as she stabbed his hand again, pinning it to the bench as she had done the first time. He screamed again, spitting expletives at her as she twisted the blade embedded between the bones in his hand.

  Letting go of the knife hilt, she walked over to the table of toys and picked up a second knife.

  Approaching, she heard him yell. “Don’t even think about it cunt.”

  “Oh really, sorry Jon, it’s too late. I’ve already thought it,” she sneered. Stepping up to his other side, she stabbed his other hand, pinning it to the bench like the first hand.

  He screamed to her delighted ears as his face distorted in obvious pain. For good measure, she wiggled the blade, ripping more of his flesh, extracted the blade, and stuck him again.