Sweet Surrender

by Angel Steel

  She heard something latching to metal. Glancing down, there was a metal bar, stretching her legs apart, attaching to the cuffs at her ankles. She wiggled her legs, seeing if she could move them together, but to no avail. The bar was stopping the movement. She couldn’t even move them with the length of chain she had, due to it being attached in the centre to the bottom of the cross through a D-ring.

  “What is that for?” She actually had the nerve to ask.

  “That is called a spreader bar. It’s to keep you in place and not move so I can do what I want to you.”

  He stood up and leaned into her, sniffing along her neck, and then his mouth was on her, sucking, nipping. It felt disgusting. If he thought this was all supposed to turn her on, he had another thing coming. She was far from feeling that, but she couldn’t pull herself away from him. She had to stay the way she was and deal with what he was doing.

  When he moved towards her mouth, she pulled her head away. It was the only part that she could actually move. His hand came up and held her in place as he shoved his tongue into her mouth, while holding it open. She wanted to bite his tongue, but couldn’t bring herself to do it, not wanting his blood in her mouth.

  Pulling away from her, he panted, “You taste sweet. Wonder if you taste as sweet everywhere else?”.

  “You make me sick, Bryan. And that is not happening again.”

  He laughed. “You enjoyed it as much as I did, Chantal.”

  “Not on your life,” she growled.

  “Let’s see if I can make you then, ha?”

  He moved back towards her mouth again, and she smashed her head forward, smacking into his. She heard his nose break, and watched as blood gushed from his nose and he fell back from the force.

  “You fucking bitch. You are going to pay for that!” he yelled.

  He shot forward, and she closed her eyes, waiting for whatever he was going to do to her, but froze when she heard another voice.

  “Stop! I never said that you could actually beat the shit out of her, Bryan. Jesus Christ. Haven’t I taught you anything? You do it through the tools I showed you with.”

  She didn’t want to open her eyes. The voice sounded familiar to her and that was why she kept her eyes closed.

  “She broke my fucking nose. I’ll do more than beat the shit out of her,” Bryan growled.

  “You will not fucking touch her again, understood? You do it the right way, or leave.”

  “I’m not fucking leaving, this is my entire plan! You only have a small part in this, and that was to show me how to use the tools.”

  What tools were they talking about? Her eyes were still closed.

  “Chantal, I know you can open your eyes, so I advise you to do it now. If I have to force them open, it’s going to hurt and I’ll enjoy doing it.”

  Carefully and slowly, she opened one and then the other, and gasped at who was standing in the room with them. Andrew stood there, all cocky looking, like he was the frigging king of the place. He was wearing all black leather, held a large bag in one hand, and the other was tucked into his pant pocket.

  “It’s very nice to see you again, Chantal, and in a very compromising position. So, where is Dominic?” he taunted, laughing.

  “I would say it’s not nice. He will come looking for me.”

  “Are you sure about that? After the scene you two had in the club, I’m sure he has moved on from you.”

  “He wouldn’t. I belong to him,” she whispered.

  Walking towards her, he placed the bag on the bed and stopped in front of her, never touching her, but she could feel his breath.

  “Well, let me tell you something, then. It doesn’t matter if you think you belong to him, he obviously thinks different. I saw him the other night back at the club with a new submissive, collar and all.”

  What? He wouldn’t do that to her, after the fight they had. She knew that she had said they were finished, and used her safe word. He would fight for her, not go straight to another sub. At least, she really hoped not. She had not meant to say what she said, and she wanted to tell him that, but how could she now when she was here and tied to a bloody cross.

  “You’re lying. He wouldn’t do that to me, no matter what has happened between us. We are meant for one another,” she whispered.

  “Would you like proof? I have a very interesting video of him and the new sub.”

  Oh, no. Her stomach twisted at what he was saying to her. How could he actually move on so quickly, just from what she had said to him? She loved him, he was the only man she had ever loved and now he didn’t care about her, and had moved on.

  “Darling, I can show you exactly what you have been missing. I’ll treat you like the whore that you are.”

  “I’m not a whore,” she gritted out.

  “To the world you would be. My good friend here has a video of you with Dominic and Joey. Then, there is the club scene, and my favourite is the one that you have just left from fucking Dominic on his bike to going back to bed with Joey. How would daddy dearest feel about seeing his daughter fucking two guys at once, and then going between the two? You are a whore, sweetheart. It’s better if you just accept it, than deny it.”

  She gulped the sob she wanted to let out. How in the world did they film her? And then, there were her parents. Her stomach rolled, and she couldn’t hold the vomit in as it spewed from her mouth and covered the floor. Her father would disown her...her mother.... No, she could not think of what she would say.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want you to belong to me; I want your full submission.”

  “That wasn’t the plan!” Bryan yelled.

  “Plans have changed,” Andrew said.

  “You won’t get that from me,” she growled. She wasn’t going to lower herself to him.

  “We can change that, Chantal. You can have it the easy way, by accepting it, or the hard way, which I will enjoy immensely.”

  “Do whatever you want. You will never be able to change my decision!” she screamed about that.

  Turning towards Bryan, Andrew instructed, “Go and get yourself cleaned up.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. She is mine, I brought her here.” Bryan argued, unmoving.

  “Go home to your wife. You will never be able to handle a woman like, Chantal. She needs a different kind of love that you will never be able to give her.”

  “No.”

  “If you don’t leave us, I will do exactly what I did to the last girl to your wife, and your daughter,” Andrew growled.

  Bryan paled. Gulping, he nodded his head.

  “Good. Now, let us be. I doubt you would want to see what will happen in the next twenty minutes,” Andrew said, never once taking his eyes from her.

  Bryan stepped towards her, and mumbled, “I’m sorry for all this. It wasn’t meant to go this way.”

  “Please, don’t leave me with him,” she begged.

  “I have to Chantal, you have no idea what he did to the last girl he was with. I would never wish it upon anyone, and I don’t want it to happen to Sherrie or Chloe.”

  Bryan turned his back on her and walked away, straight out the door, closing it behind him.

  “Bryan!” she screamed as she thrashed against the restraints.

  “It’s going to be interesting to see how long it takes to break you in, Chantal. I have waited for this moment since that night I almost had you.”

  “Do whatever you want, I will never be yours!” she screamed.

  “I plan to do just that, and you will crack, they all do, eventually.”

  She was screwed. There was absolutely nothing she could do besides scream and even that wouldn’t likely bring anyone. She had come to the conclusion that no one was coming for her. Why would they? She had no clue as to where she was, so why would anyone else. Closing her eyes, she wanted this all to be a dream—a nightmare even—that she was going to wake up from any moment now, and find herself in her bed, wrapped in Dominic’s arms, where she knew s
he would be safe from everything in this world.

  ******

  Dominic groaned; his head was pounding, his entire body was throbbing especially in places he thought never would, and he couldn’t see a freaking damn thing. Moving his body around, he realised he was attached to something. When he pulled on his hands, whatever they tied him with was cutting into his wrists. The same thing happened when he moved his feet, too.

  He leaned his head from side to side, working out the kink he had. When he woke up here, unsure as to how long he had been out for, he guessed it could be several days. He woke up in the same spot he was in now, but in better condition than what he was in now. He had been tied to this exact chair—wrist, arms, chest, thighs, calves and ankles—not an inch of him could move. The bag over his head was removed and there stood in front of him some random guy he had never seen before, but he sure as hell knew him.

  No words were said for the first hour, with the exception of his yelling and screaming in pain. Fists, legs, bats, metal poles, and God, he couldn’t even think of the rest of the things that were used to bash him. He had tried to ask why he was doing it, but there was no response; it was like he was mute. The second hour had him stripped of his shirt, and then the guy started throwing daggers at him, from every corner in the room. Sitting here now, still with those daggers embedded into his lower half, he also had a broken nose, at least six broken ribs, his left eye was bloodied shut, and a split lip and eyebrow, or forehead due to the amount of blood that ran down the front of his face. Bruises were already starting to form over his chest and since his face was tender, he assumed there as well.

  Noises were coming from behind him out in the hallway. The door squeaked open and footsteps made their way towards him. The chair that he was in bent backwards with him in it and then dragged out of the room. He tried to speak, but his voice didn’t come out fully, the gag in his mouth was stopping it, and all it sounded like were muffled words. Shaking his body to get the person’s attention that was dragging him didn’t work. Whoever was doing this knew what they were doing. It took a lot to actually take him down, but what they did was the cheat’s way in his book.

  He could hear a woman screaming. The high-pitched screams sent chills down his spine. Jesus, what were they doing down there. The screaming got louder and louder as they descended down the hall. They came to a stop right out front of a door.

  “Don’t bother moving,” the guy said.

  Yeah, how the fuck am I going to do that, asshole.

  He could see through the bag slightly, since there was lighting coming from the doorway. He could just see a large figure standing in front of something, that was it. The door slammed, echoing down the hall, shaking things that were on the wall, or sitting beside it.

  Muffled words came through, both male, and then the woman’s screams. His stomach churned again at the possibilities of what was happening to her behind the door. He had to figure a way of escaping this hellhole and taking the girl with him. He wasn’t going to leave her here, for them to keep doing what they were doing. He would get her out, and in the meantime, whoever was doing the things that evoked such anguished screams from her, he was going to do the fucking same to.

  It went completely silent behind the door. Seconds later, the door opened, and he was dragged into it. His head tilted to the side, where a whimpering sound came from. He could tell that the woman was sobbing. As he was turned around to obviously face whoever was in the room, a gasp caught his attention. It sounded all too familiar to him.

  His chair scrapped against the ground as he was moved, and then abruptly the pulling stopped. Then all of a sudden the bag was ripped from his head. He blinked several times, adjusting his eyes to the brightness of the room. His eyes hurt, burned was more like it, from the light filling the room. It was like he was still drunk from the night before, or had the worst hangover of his life. But for some unknown reason, he knew it wasn’t alcohol doing this to him. It was something much, much worse than that, something potent. He opened and closed his mouth. He needed water. The inside of his mouth was pasty dry, that horrible taste and feeling when you didn’t have any fluids for days. Shaking his head slightly helped clear his eyes enough that he could see across the room. That was when his blurred eyes landed on a female body tied to a cross on the other side of the room. She was on a side angle and with the way her head was hanging; he could not get a good look of her face. Something registered in the back of his mind, only slightly that he knew exactly who it was attached to that cross. The person standing beside her walked over in his direction.

  “You’re finally awake. I was wondering when that would happen, didn’t want you to miss the finale in here,” Andrew said.

  What the fuck was this loser doing here?

  Andrew walked across the room to a wall full of equipment, running his hands over each object. “I wonder what I should start off with?”

  His hand hovered between the cane and the paddle. What was he trying to prove here, that he could use them better than he could?

  He watched as he picked up the paddle, he moved back towards the woman. “You know, this is the least of my favourites. These things never seem to do what they are meant for, but let’s give it a shot and see what I can do with it.”

  His hand came up and then down, hard and fast. The slap from the paddle on the woman’s backside echoed through the room with her muffled screams.

  “Maybe it needs to be a little harder, don’t you think?” Andrew said to him.

  He did the same again, but with more force. The woman’s body jolted away from the cross, arching her back as it connected to the top of her buttocks.

  When his hands moved back, away from her, the bright red welts just from those two hits were coming up quickly.

  “I think we need something more in depth for the next bit.” He threw the paddle away and walked into the adjoined room. Moments later, he came back in with a whip curled in his hand and his shirt removed.

  Standing beside him, he said with a grin, “Are you ready for the next bit?”.

  An overwhelming feeling of anxiety swept through him.

  Andrew stood beside the woman, hand on the cross. “This is one of the reasons why I love these new and improved crosses.” With that, he spun the cross around and Dom sat there, shocked as to who was in front of him. He had found her, finally.

  Chantal was strapped to the cross, completely naked. His eyes roamed over every inch of her body, noticing all the injuries she had. His pulse quickened. Someone had hurt her and they were going to pay.

  “Someone looks a little upset at what they see.” Andrew laughed. “Don’t worry, she gave Bryan a run for his money. Did you know it was him that sent all that stuff to her? Some shit about Chantal being all his, blah...blah...blah.”

  He was going to kill them both. The rage running through his system was going to choke him if he didn’t get out of this damn chair quickly.

  “Johnny, get in here!” Andrew shouted towards the door. He couldn’t take his eye off of her. Her head was hanging forward. He tried making some kind of sound so she would look at him, but he couldn’t manage. His throat was sore from screaming in pain or to let him the fuck out of this place. Her arms looked limp where they were strapped in place. Her legs were bent at the knees, and he knew that she had given up.

  The guy called Johnny, the same one that did the shit to him, walked back into the room. “I need you to rip out his gag, when I make the first hit with the whip, understand?”

  “Yes, boss.”

  Turning his back to him, he felt Johnny move behind him and the pressure of the gag loosened just a little. He flicked out the whip. It looked between a bullwhip and cat-o-nine tails. Jesus Christ, he was going to use it on her body. With one hit it marked, the next hit would cut her wide open.

  His eyes glued to the whip as Andrew lifted it above his head and spun it around several times, and he watched in slow motion as it cracked along her back. She screamed, the same scream
he heard earlier, echoed through the room. Her back arched further away from the cross. Her form shook, as sobs racked her body. The gag was ripped from his mouth, but words didn’t form as to what he was seeing right in front of him.

  Andrew turned to him. “Again?”

  “No!” he yelled.

  Chantal’s head popped up from where it was hanging. Her mouth fell open with a gasp, “Dominic.” Her voice was croaky, saliva dripped from her mouth, tears streamed down her cheeks and blood trickled everywhere. Her face didn’t look too good. Her left eye was swollen shut, there was a bruise on her forehead, and over her nose. Her cheek was the same, and there was dried blood under her nose. As his eyes moved down the front of her body, there was a huge bruise covering the majority of her right side, and some covering her legs and arms. It looked like she put up a pretty good fight.

  “It’s me, baby.” Fuck, he wanted to cry seeing her like that. He could see the pain in her eyes. He was going to make Andrew pay for what he had done to her, in a fucking big way.

  “Aww, the two lovebirds in the same room. But not for much longer,” Andrew said.

  The whip came up and down harder than the first, she screamed out as it sliced across her back. He thrashed in his chair. “Stop,” he yelled. Her body slumped forward, unmoving, and Andrew stepped out of his view. There were nine bright reds welts across one half of her back; the next nine lines on the other side had sliced into her skin. Every single one of them had a small trail of blood slowly oozing out of them, and running down her back.

  “Get the fuck away from her, you sick fuck,” he growled.

  “Why would I do that? I’m enjoying this way too much to ever stop.”

  Andrew stepped towards her again. He was ready to yell once more, but stopped as Andrew undid the restraints at her ankles. Holding her with one arm around her waist, he removed the ones at her wrists. Her body fell forward in his arms. He watched as Andrew picked her up and carried her towards the bed.