by M. S. Willis
Mr. Carmichael’s hand reached out suddenly, the back of his hand slapped against Vincent’s face, knocking his guard back on the bed. “Not yet, Vincent! You and Emory will have your turns when I’ve had my fill of the bitch; and it is my preference to fuck her WITHOUT your spittle across her body!” Turning his attention back to the objects littering the side table, Mr. Carmichael measured out some of the powder, scooping it into a spoon, the bottom of which he held over the flame of a candle to heat.
Even though they’d been warned, the temptation of Maddy’s body was too much for the two men holding her down. Emory licked his lips as his eyes traveled the length of her body, his hand reaching down to fondle her between her thighs, his fingers pushing even deeper into her and she saw him visibly harden underneath his pants. Each man grabbed one of her legs, spreading them apart so that they could gain access to her more easily.
“I cannot wait until I get you back to my playroom, whore. My dick has never been so hard as it is at this moment.” Vincent’s finger breached the opening of her ass, the lack of lubrication causing the skin to burn from the intrusion. “Oh, I think I’ll be taking you there, it is so fucking tight.”
Pulling the liquefied powder into a syringe, Mr. Carmichael stood up. Speaking through laughter, he said, “It won’t be when I’m done with it, I plan on ripping this bitch apart. Such a sweet piece of ass, it’ll be like Heaven itself in comparison to the whores I’ve used up over the years.” He placed the syringe aside, stood up with the spoon in his hand; the spoon’s bowl was still red from the heat. He stood in front of her as she was held to the bed, her legs pulled apart so that she was completely bared to him, not a single bit of her wasn’t exposed. His eyes roamed over her skin, his gaze fixated on the flesh at the apex of her thighs. “Oh yes, I’m going to thoroughly enjoy this.”
He leaned down over her, supporting himself on one arm, while the one that held the spoon remained behind his back. Pressing his mouth to her ear, he whispered, “I want to hear you scream for me.” With his last word, he pressed the back of the spoon into her inner thigh. Maddy released a bloodcurdling scream, she could smell her flesh as it burned underneath the spoon, her legs shook violently from the agony tearing across her skin, through her nerves, sinking itself deeply within her bones. Mr. Carmichael hissed while standing up; his eyes closed as if listening to the sound of something so sweet it placed him in a state of ecstasy. His eyes opened once she stopped screaming from the pain, the unforgiving steel-colored eyes filled with malice as he looked down into her eyes. “Like music to my ears,” he scoffed. Another chuckle as he moved back to the table to put down the cooled spoon, before retaking his position in front of her.
His hands moved to his crotch and he squeezed himself. Looking over her body, he shook his head, “Tsk, tsk. It appears my son didn’t know how to properly use a whore. There isn’t a single mark on your body. He is such a failure — such a disappointment — preferring to indulge in his desire to kill rather than the splendor of a whore splayed out before him.”
Leaning down, he took her breast into his mouth, swirled his tongue over the tip, and sunk his teeth into the tender skin surrounding it. Maddy’s throat felt torn from the volume of her scream, tears saturating her skin as they ran in rivulets down her face. Mr. Carmichael sucked on her breast, drawing blood from where he’d broken the skin. A loud popping sound resonated when he let go and stood back up. “So fucking sweet.”
His hand reached down as he forced his fingers over her clit and within the crease of her soft skin folds. Pushing his fingers inside her, he pulled them apart, spinning them along the muscles of her opening. “Remember when I did this to you in the ballroom? I’ve wanted to fuck you ever since I had the pleasure of tasting you that day. You should have never been given to Aaron. When I’m done with you, I’ll abduct another woman and be sure not to make the same mistake.” Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he licked her off each one, slowly and suggestively as a chuckle rumbled from his chest.
~ ~ ~
Arriving at the compound twenty minutes later, Aaron immediately went to his quarters, Xander following closely behind as Aaron entered and moved down the corridor to his room. Grabbing and arming himself with as many knives and guns that he could carry, Aaron barked out orders as Xander stood diligently nearby.
After retrieving a pair of longer knives from the closet that could be used as short swords in a fight, Aaron emerged and asked, “Are the men on their way?”
Xander nodded indicating that they were. “They will be here within the hour. Once they have formed their group we can move to strike.”
“I will not wait for them, Xander. I’m going after Madeleine now! She may not have an hour. If that bastard kills her, I swear to you, neither he nor I will remain alive for much longer.” Rage burned behind the green of Aaron’s eyes, fury so intense his muscles shook with the force of it rushing through his veins. The darkness that Maddy had tempered over the last few months returned with such a fantastic vengeance that Aaron felt like, if he did die, he’d detonate and take hundreds of men with him.
“Then I’m going with you. I’ve told you before: ‘If you die, I die.’ And I’m not letting you go against a hundred men on your own.” Xander’s tone was firm, the sound of a man who would not be swayed to change his decision.
Green met blue as the two men stared at each other; both knowing it was futile to argue against one another. Aaron turned and grabbed another long blade for Xander to use. Tossing it to his friend, he said, “Then let’s be quiet as we go in. If we can keep the element of surprise, we might stand a chance. Use your gun only when it’s absolutely necessary.”
Once they’d entered the halls, the only sound between them was the pounding of their boots against the stone floor; the rhythmic beats sounded strong and assured as the men moved toward the wing of the house that was occupied by Mr. Carmichael’s men. Approaching the doors to the ballroom, the two guards who usually would pull them open so that Aaron and Xander could pass now blocked the doors instead. Aaron went against the man on the right while Xander swung out toward the man on the left. Their blades quickly decapitating the guards, Aaron watched as their heads fell from their bodies and rolled along the ground. Grabbing the handles to the door, Aaron pulled it open. He was not surprised to find twenty men waiting on the other side. Just as their boots moved into the ballroom, the sound of twenty guns being cocked reverberated throughout the large space.
Aaron looked to Xander then back at the men in front of him. “I guess we won’t be remaining quiet for much longer.” Both men ducked to the sides, seeking shelter behind furniture as twenty guns were fired in their direction. Aaron and Xander both pulled their guns in return, more capable of finding their targets among the chaos than the ones they were fighting. One by one, they took down the men, but were met with a wave of reinforcements that came pouring through the doors on the other side of the ballroom. Between the two of them, they’d killed more than forty men. Running out of ammunition, Aaron took advantage of the chaos in the room and ran into the crowd slicing away at arms, legs, and heads as he passed through. Blood ran like rivers through the ballroom. The fetid stench of expelled excrement, which spilled from the bowels of the dying men, became a suffocating stink that permeated Aaron’s skin as he continued to fight.
Xander stood guard by the doors, firing at any man who approached Aaron’s back. At least fifty men had been killed before another wave of men came running through those doors. Aaron looked up from the carnage littered across the floor of the ballroom and he feared he’d be overtaken. Using the bodies of the dead to shield himself from the spray of bullets, he continued hacking into each man that he approached. Some died immediately upon contact with his sword, others lay in pools of the own blood, the sounds of their death rattles mixed with the shouting throughout the room.
Another wave of men arrived, but this time, it was the alliance members flooding through the doors where Aaron and Xander had entered. More
guns were fired, more bullets flew through the air as Aaron moved quickly, executing each man who dared cross his path. His body was covered in the crimson shade of death, trails of sweat running through it, turning the red into a muddled perversion of pink. His shoulders burned as he swung the long knives in front him, his teeth gritted as he tore into the flesh of bodies that stood before him. He was a monster in that moment, the darkness finally being allowed to take over so that he could reach his target. No emotion in him for the souls being delivered to the gates of Hell, no concern for his own life except that he be given the opportunity to kill the man who’d played him his entire life.
With the help of the alliance members, Aaron was able to reach the doors of his father’s wing of the building. Waiting for Xander to reach him, he held the handles, but pushed forward into the tight corridors that made it more difficult to fight. The men he encountered screamed out when they were met with his blade. Some were not sure they wanted to approach, but knew they would face death eventually if it was found that they acted as cowards.
Powering forward, Aaron had to spit the blood from his mouth as it seeped in from the crimson streams running down his face. With Xander by his side, they slaughtered every living thing that crossed their path. If those men were still breathing by the time Aaron and Xander passed by, the men of the alliance that were bringing up the rear would certainly strike them down. The screams were deafening as they charged through the halls, their vision obscured by the gunfire smoke. Like a runaway train, there was nothing that could stop them in their search for Madeleine, and Aaron knew exactly the room where she’d been taken.
One single objective, one thought in his mind; he would find Madeleine, and he would kill any man who got between them.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
After taunting Maddy with the truth of her helplessness, Mr. Carmichael crossed back to the table and picked up the syringe. Holding it up so that he could see its contents by the illumination of candlelight, he flicked it a few times. Testing the syringe with his fingers and finding it cool to the touch, he picked up a rubber strap and wrapped it tightly around his arm. “I can’t wait to have you, slave, but first, let me get myself to a place that will make the sex so much better for me. There’s nothing like the feel of a whore’s nails across your back under the influence of such a wonderful drug.” He tapped his vein before inserting the needle and shooting the drug into his bloodstream. Pulling the tourniquet from his arm, his head fell back and his body visibly trembled from the rush of the substance through his body. A heavy sigh left his mouth, his tongue flicking out to lick along his bottom lip.
While Mr. Carmichael was busy adjusting to the drug in his system, Emory and Vincent took the opportunity to continue molesting Maddy’s body, leaving bruises and scratches all over her skin as they manhandled her. Maddy bit her tongue, trying not to cry out and feed the sexual frenzy of the two men.
Mr. Carmichael, finally coming back from the initial rush of the drug, moved back between her legs, let her watch as he slowly undid his belt, pulled the button loose from his pants, and slid his zipper down. “It’s time, my dear, for you to learn what it means to be a whore.” Reaching his hand into his pants he appeared to be fondling himself while his expression grew into one of frustration. Although terrified, her body shaking violently as she awaited her fate, confusion bloomed in Maddy’s thoughts … he was not pulling himself out of his pants.
A sound like that of firecrackers could faintly be heard from the direction of the corridors to the apartment. Mr. Carmichael’s head turned suddenly as Vincent and Emory immediately released their grips from her legs and sat up straight to listen intently to the noise. Emory spoke first. “It sounds like gunfire.”
A wicked grin lazily spread itself over Mr. Carmichael’s face; his eyes were glazed over from the drug, yet still alight with understanding; his shoulders shook from his low, malevolent laugh. “It appears Aaron has returned home.” His words were slurred, the effects of the drug snaking its way through his system.
Maddy’s heart blossomed with hope, but was overshadowed with dread. While anxious for Aaron to reach her, she still feared for his safety, feared that he’d not waited for assistance, feared that his darkness propelled him into battle against an army that he couldn’t hope to win on his own.
Sounding distant and wishful, Mr. Carmichael, commented, “What I wouldn’t give to see the carnage that the executioner must be creating outside my door.” Turning his attention back to Emory and Vincent, he added, “It’s a shame he’ll never make it, go finish him off and make it quick. I’m sure there is going to be a large amount of bodies to burn if he’s made it through the ballroom, let’s not give him time to add to the pile.”
The two guards obediently rose from the bed, but looked back at Madeleine not sure if she would attempt to run now that she’d been released. Mr. Carmichael’s expression became annoyed with their hesitation. “Don’t worry about her boys, I’m perfectly capable of handling a woman, especially one her size.” The two guards left the room, leaving Madeleine alone with a man who was anxious to perform unspeakably atrocious acts against her, to use her and toss her aside like she held no value to the world whatsoever.
~ ~ ~
When Aaron and Xander finally cut through the majority of his father’s men, the door to which Aaron was charging came into view. It opened as they approached. Two men, Emory and Vincent, stepped through; savage smiles smeared across their faces as they lifted their guns and opened fire.
Pain erupted on Aaron’s arm — the feeling of flesh splitting — from a hot lead bullet. Ducking down a hallway on their right, Aaron and Xander got out of the path of the bullets from Emory and Vincent’s guns, allowed the men of the alliance who still had ammunition to charge ahead. They watched as men fell into piles at the juncture to the hall, not able to match the marksmanship of his father’s top guards. Waiting out the two guards, they listened as bullets flew past, the high-pitched whistle as the air itself was torn open by the lead. His back against the wall, Aaron got Jason’s attention as his men charged through the corridor, he waved his hand to ask that Jason and his men fall back. The alliance started to back up, still having to fire their guns to keep up with the weapons used by Emory and Vincent; weapons which had undoubtedly been altered to hold as many rounds as possible.
When Jason’s men had retreated as far back as they could, Aaron glanced around the corner, noting that Emory and Vincent’s attention was diverted by the few men who still fired every so often from around the wall of an adjacent hallway. Grabbing a small blade that was strapped to his ankle, Aaron aimed his weapon, throwing it expertly toward Vincent’s face, the blade embedding into his left eye. Vincent howled from the pain of the injury, went down to his knees, and eventually lost consciousness from the blood loss and probable injury to his brain. An expression of confusion mixed with contempt shadowed Emory’s face as he looked around for Aaron. No one else could have been more accurate with a blade and there was no doubt Emory knew Aaron’s hand was behind that throw. Slowly, he stepped forward, his boots kicking against the dead that lay in his path.
“Aaron? I know you have to be around here somewhere; only the executioner could’ve pulled off a throw like that. Why don’t you come out and fight like a man rather than hide like a scared woman?”
The hall became so quiet during the standoff between the two men, a high-pitched scream could be heard emanating from Mr. Carmichael’s room. Rage, a red film over his mind, covered the darkness already consuming Aaron when he recognized that cry as Maddy’s.
A sickening chuckle sounded before Emory said, “You hear that, Aaron? Your father ruts himself on top of your whore as we speak. By the sounds of those cries, I do believe she likes it.” The sneer to his lip curled even more as he attempted to goad Aaron into walking in plain sight. “I’ll have to hurry this up so that I can get back and have my own fun before he fucks her to death.”
Aaron remained with his back against the
wall, shoulder to shoulder with Xander. Just barely, Aaron could see Jason barricaded behind the wall of another hallway. When Jason looked his way, he used his hands to silently indicate where Jason should fire his weapon. As soon as the shot was fired, Emory focused his attention toward the distant hallway, giving Aaron a chance to come around the corner without being noticed. Creeping forward, he kept his long blade at his side, which allowed Xander to create another distraction that kept Emory occupied. Just as Emory looked down, the scar running along his face throbbed red with anger, Aaron swung out with his blade while still crouched, striking Emory across the knees.
Blood poured out of the guard’s legs as he fell hard to the ground. Ever the warrior, he bit back the pain and lifted his weapon to fire, but Aaron was faster. Pushing himself up into a standing position, Aaron drove the blade downwards, forcing it through the top of Emory’s skull. Burying the steel deep into Emory’s brain, Aaron had to twist the hilt to get his blade back; he pulled upwards with such force that it dropped Emory to the floor once it broke free.
Aaron’s chest heaved out in front of him from the physical exertion he’d just been through, but there was no time to catch his breath, not when his father still had Maddy. Spinning on his heel, he moved toward the door. Xander came up beside him just as he broke the handle off the locked door and opened it to go find his slave.
~ ~ ~
Mr. Carmichael appeared sinister in the dancing candlelight’s shadows — sinister and cruel. His refined looks suddenly became those of a demon. His cheekbones ran like sharp blades across his cheek, the cut of his nose and lips made even more pronounced by the faint illumination. Maddy’s vision began to tunnel from the rush of adrenaline and fear rushing through her battered body. She had to fight not to faint, not to pass out and leave herself completely at the mercy of a sadistic hedonist.
