Rude Awakening

by Sam Crescent

  He smacked her arse. When Harry tapped her there it was erotic and turned her on, but this did nothing for her except make bile rise into her throat. This was abuse in its purest form, a spiteful whack intended to hurt, not bring pleasure. Anyway he could hurt her, he would.

  Ruby walked along the landing and waited while he opened the door. He pushed her inside. She stumbled forward and turned to face the doorway. Was being in this room just a reprieve? Did he plan on keeping her underground for the most part? What if Harry came in to save her and Nigel did what he’d promised he’d do? She’d be stuck here at his mercy, the love of her life dead.

  She shuddered. No, she wouldn’t go back down there again. Rubbing her arms, she waited, knowing she’d either get out of this house alive or die trying.

  “You know what I’m going to do to you?” Nigel asked.

  Ruby nodded and looked past his shoulder. She couldn’t bear to see him gloating at his power.

  He closed and locked the door, then took her arm and propelled her to the bed where all of his torture equipment was set. He could keep her here for hours if he dealt with Harry. Bound and gagged. No one would be able to hear her scream or even know where she was.

  Nigel put the lights on over the bed and started to strip off his shirt. “Take off your clothes,” he ordered, going over to the straps on the headboard. Nigel had an assortment of things on that headboard—straps, handcuffs, leather bindings—to keep her contained during his discipline sessions, each one designed to inflict more pain than the last time she’d been held.

  Ruby didn’t argue or question him. He was way bigger than her and could easily overpower her, making it harder to defend herself later if he broke one of her bones.

  She stripped and he beckoned to her. She moved over to him and stood beside the bed, nerves jangling.

  Harry, please hurry.

  Nigel shoved her onto the bed facedown and took one of her hands and then the other, strapping her wrists to the headboard. He tied her legs to the metal footer. Once she was secure, he stood and turned a wheel attached to the wall. Her hands lifted further and further above her head, her chest and pelvis rising from the mattress, the headboard growing in height until she gasped, stretched too tightly. Pain scoured her muscles and tendons, and she knew she had to tune it out in order to get through this. If she concentrated on the pain it exacerbated it.

  In this pose she was useless, unable to fight any of his punishments. She remembered another time on this bed, where he’d whipped her, given her the scars she now carried around with her daily. Before she could feel sorry for herself, she pinned all her hopes on Harry rescuing her.

  Hurry, Harry.

  Ruby kept looking at the door. It would be only a matter of moments before Nigel laid into her. He hummed as he went to his table of weapons and picked up the paddle, similar to the one Harry had used.

  “I’ve got to break you again in order to mould you. This is all Harry’s fault. You shouldn’t have left me.”

  He walked back to her, stroked her cheek, his thumb running along her lower lip. The desire to bite down on him was so strong but she kept it all locked in. It wouldn’t do her any good, strapped up as she was. If anything, it would make his punishment worse. Nigel climbed on the bed and straddled her, his arse settling on the backs of her calves. He stuffed rough material into her mouth. She cringed, hung her head and closed her eyes, breathing through her nose, the intake of air not enough. He caressed her back then cupped her naked breasts, moving down to her pussy.

  Ruby prayed.

  “Such a shame my work has been ruined,” he said, taking his hands off her.

  Ruby heard the rush of air as the paddle was raised and waited, tension building inside her.

  Harry, please, come for me. Save me.

  Treacherous tears poured down her face and her heart pounded.

  Whack!

  The paddle slapped the side of her leg followed by another strike on her arse. These were not small love taps but full-on force. Ruby fought to contain her scream. As the paddle connected with her exposed body for a third time, she released it, ineffectual with her mouth filled the way it was.

  Sweat dotted her forehead and the need to be sick came with the burning throb of what he’d done. Nigel kept on. The pain was excruciating. This was worse than any other beatings he’d given her. He now had to prove his manhood, prove she belonged to him. As he paddled harder, Ruby couldn’t distinguish the time between slaps anymore. Her body was one giant ball of pain.

  In no time at all, she went limp, the swat of the paddle never-ending on her legs and arse. She knew from the force of the impacts she’d be bruised and possibly even bleeding in places.

  Harry, please. I can’t hold on much longer.

  She tried to think of everything to do with Harry to keep her focused. Meeting him. His wonderful sense of humour. His posh exterior hiding the fact that deep down inside he was a true gentleman and a classic Dom. Harry made her want to be better and to make him proud. Her mum would really like him, even with his fancy suits and silly sayings.

  God, I love you, Harry.

  The kiss in the chip shop was the most memorable, the moment of them passing into a different phase of their relationship. All couples had them, a turning point or a crossroads. Harry and his kiss had changed her.

  I love you, Harry.

  If nothing else ever came of their time together, she knew in her heart of hearts she would always love that man.

  The pain grew unbearable. She couldn’t fight it anymore.

  Ruby closed her eyes. She prayed for the sweet relief of darkness, while accompanied by the macabre sounds of Nigel’s heaving breaths and wretched snarls as he used all his might to paddle her into complete submission.

  * * * *

  Harry stood on the path outside Nigel’s house, the woman beside him bundled up in a coat over her pink fleece dressing gown. She’d called the police, handing him the phone through the door crack when he’d shouted to ask her to let him speak. Once she realised he wasn’t some crazy bastard out to trick his way into her home, she’d unlatched the chain and allowed him to finish the call in her living room. He paced as he spoke, itched to go next door and break in, but something told him not to. The lawyer in him battled for prominence over his natural male instinct and won. If anything happened to Ruby because of that he’d never forgive himself.

  He stared up the street, longing for sight of a police car.

  What kind of man am I, waiting out here like this?

  Shoving what he ‘should’ do aside, he gave in and went with what he wanted to do. He ran towards Nigel’s front door and hammered on it with the side of his fist, yelling that he’d kill the bastard if he did anything to hurt Ruby. He expected lights to come on, for Nigel to open the door and act as though nothing untoward was going on inside, but the house remained in darkness. Frustrated, he rushed around the back. The dining room light was still on. He glanced up and saw light bleeding around the edges of an upper window, curtains drawn against any neighbours in the houses behind who might see what was happening inside. Knowing it was undoubtedly a bedroom, he cursed, thinking of what Ruby had told him about the torture devices Nigel had used on her in the past.

  “Fuck doing the right thing,” he said, streaking to the back door and yanking at the handle.

  He raised his arm ready to punch the glass, but a shuffle of footsteps had him holding his fist mid-air. He turned and saw the woman neighbour peering at him around the corner of the house.

  “What are you doing?” she said, voice full of urgency. “The police are here!”

  He brushed past her, running out to the front. Two officers in uniform stood on Nigel’s doorstep, one peering through the letterbox, the other tapping with the brass knocker. They stared at him as though he was the man they were after.

  “You have to get in there. He’s got her. Took her—”

  “Now hang on a moment, sir.” The officer who’d been looking through
the letterbox straightened, holding out one hand as if to ward Harry off. “We don’t know that anything is actually going on here. Yes, you called it in, but we have to knock before taking the next course of action.”

  “Knock harder then!” he roared at the other policeman. “I’m telling you, I saw him bring her up out of a door in the floor. Go around the back and look if you don’t believe me, but bloody hell, get a damn move on. He’s a sadistic bastard, could be doing anything to her in there.” He clenched his hands into fists, wanting to shoulder barge the door and find Ruby himself.

  Red tape pissed him the hell off and brought a redder mist down over his eyes.

  “Calm down, sir—”

  “Calm down? Fucking calm down? Jesus Christ!” He strode to the door and pushed the officer aside. “Have me up for breaking and entering for all I care. I’m going in, something I should have done ages ago!”

  The officer gripped his shoulders and pulled him back. Harry resisted, straining forward, hoping the officer’s hold would break.

  It didn’t.

  A light coming on in Nigel’s hallway stopped any further tussle. Harry straightened up, hating the policeman’s hands still being on his shoulders. The door opened, and Nigel, fully dressed in a suit of all things, stood in the threshold.

  “Can I help you?” he asked, as calm as he’d been when Harry had been here earlier.

  “It’s him,” Harry said, renewing his attempt to make the officer let him go. “He’s got her in there!”

  Nigel cocked his head. “What on earth is this man talking about?” He looked at the policemen, his expression one belonging to a bemused man.

  “Let them in if you’ve got nothing to hide!” Harry shouted, shrugging and failing to get the policeman off him. It ignited more anger inside him, but if he struck a man of the law he’d find himself in shit. “I know you have her in there.”

  “Who are you talking about?” Nigel asked, frowning.

  “You know exactly who I mean. Ruby!”

  “Ruby? I don’t know a Ruby.” He smiled, the condescending bastard, and held one hand out inside his home. “Please, officers, feel free to take a look around. You won’t find anyone else in here but me.”

  Nigel stepped back. Harry gathered all his strength and lunged forward, freeing himself. He shoved Nigel in the chest and entered his house, ignoring the shouts behind him—Nigel blustering about Harry being clearly insane, the officers shouting he had no right to be inside.

  Harry fled up the stairs, working out which room the light had come from. His heart pounded so hard he found it difficult to breathe, but he pressed on, surging down the hallway to the only door that light filtered beneath. He gripped the handle and turned it, but the door had been locked. Muffled grunts came from the other side, spurring him into smacking his side against the door repeatedly. Pain lashed at him, streaking through his shoulder and down his back, and he gritted his teeth as he bashed at the door again. He was aware of heavy footsteps on the stairs and Nigel still swearing innocence, and then the door gave. He staggered inside, eyes widening at the horrific sight before him.

  Ruby was strapped to a bed, her arms, legs and torso stretched to unquestionably painful levels. Red welts marred her back, arse and thighs, the harsh light above her highlighting trickles of translucent fluid and blood from the wounds. He ran to the side of the bed, leaning over to pull the hair back from her face, to check she was still breathing. She lifted her head and turned it so she faced him. Tears streaked her cheeks, her lashes soaked with them, and her lips stretched around a wad of bunched-up white cloth in her mouth. He snatched it out and she gasped for air, at the same time trying to speak but failing to get any words out.

  “Don’t speak,” he said. “Just breathe. I’m here. The police are here.”

  He took his gaze off her and looked at the headboard. The straps that bound her were leather, the silver buckles large. He lost no time in undoing one, managing to give her some relief before one of the policemen burst into the room.

  “Jesus Christ!” he said, going back out into the hallway. “Secure him!” he shouted, then moved to the other side of the bed to tackle the other wrist buckle.

  “Oh, God!” Ruby croaked. “Don’t let him see me like this. Please, don’t…”

  “Shh,” Harry said, releasing one ankle. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. No one’s ever going to hurt you again, understand?”

  She nodded, her torso lowering to the bed, and he lay beside her, gathering her into his arms. The policeman untied her other ankle and stood in the doorway, speaking into his radio.

  Everything faded away—everything except Harry and Ruby. He kissed the top of her head, squeezing her to him, conscious of his sleeve brushing her back and likely causing her more pain. His eyes prickled with emotion at the way she clung to him so tightly. She sobbed, her tears wetting his chest, and he resisted stroking her back to comfort her. The welts were angry, raw, and the sight of them made him feel sick. If he wasn’t involved in this mess he’d have gladly taken Ruby’s case and fought tooth and nail to ensure Nigel was put behind bars, but he couldn’t do it, wouldn’t be allowed to.

  No, but I know a man who can.

  * * * *

  His hallway wall was cold against Master’s cheek at first, but it soon warmed. One of the policemen had cuffed his hands at his lower back and now stood behind him, splayed hand on Master’s head, pinning him in place.

  Master sighed. He really hadn’t wanted this to happen. It had the potential to be a mess, but he’d soon straighten it out. He’d play the BDSM card, where he made them see no one in the lifestyle understood the rules, how it appeared to the casual onlooker that he had been abusing Margaret, but that wasn’t the case. No, she was his sub and he had every right to treat her this way—especially because she hadn’t said no, hadn’t said a safe word. She wouldn’t be able to deny it, and if he could get to see her before he was taken to the police station, he’d give her a look that left her in no doubt that if she told the police lies he’d have Harry seen to.

  It didn’t turn out that way. Two more officers arrived, burlier than the others, taking him away in the back of their car, neither of them speaking. That was all right. He’d explain once they began interviewing him, would get character witnesses to let them know this had all been a silly mistake. That Harry wanted Margaret for himself and would do anything, including this, to have her.

  Yes, that will work.

  The lights of the oncoming city grew in number as the car took Nigel to the place where everything would be smoothed over. He hummed, the same tune that he’d filled the room with as he’d trussed Margaret up. He wondered whether she’d shiver with revulsion every time she heard it in the future, whether she’d carry her hate for him inside her for the rest of her life.

  He hoped so.

  His cock hardened at the thought of that.

  At the sight of the police station, Master quietly sucked in a breath. He had never been inside one, had never planned to be either, but if things went how he envisaged, he wouldn’t be in this one for very long. He smiled as the car drew to a halt around the back, smiled as the officers led him into the building, and smiled some more when he was guided into an interview room and asked to take a seat.

  He sat and waited, with a different officer standing beside the door, and ran through his story in his mind. He had no doubt they’d find the underground room, but that was all right. There was nothing in it, and he wondered what he should tell him he was going to use it for.

  A private club. Yes, that would do it. A place where he could entertain his friends. He allowed his thoughts to meander down that route, nodding as he thought of the bare plaster, ready, he would tell them, for the soundproofing men to come in. After all, if he was going to throw parties, he wouldn’t want the beat of music to upset his neighbours. No, he was a good citizen, only wishing to be left alone in peace to live his life.

  Margaret would be a good girl, he was sure of it.
She’d tell them Harry had no business ringing the police like that. After all, if things went wrong and he was convicted—it wouldn’t come to that…of course it wouldn’t—he’d be out in short time, wouldn’t he?

  Surely she wouldn’t run the risk of him coming back to find her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Four Years Later

  Ruby stood in the living room, looking out at the frozen ground. Christmas was a few weeks away, but she wasn’t looking at the snow with Christmas in mind or for the season of goodwill. She was looking at the place where four years ago her life had changed forever.

  If Harry hadn’t come out that night to find her, she wouldn’t have lasted much longer with that bastard Nigel, who was now rotting in some prison miles away.

  She went into the kitchen and washed the last of the dishes, placing them on the drainer. Peeling off her rubber gloves, she gazed at the diamond ring circling her finger. A few months after that fateful night, Harry had proposed and given her a whirlwind engagement and an even bigger pre-wedding present—she finally had her name changed to something she would want to hear. She couldn’t imagine being a Margaret anymore, and so before their wedding she legally changed her name to Ruby. He’d also gifted her with a collar, a diamond choker to save people looking at her oddly and asking questions—a collar she could wear all the time.

  He’d explained about the mirrors, too. When teaching, he’d wanted his subs to love themselves, to be able to see their bodies and faces often without fretting on how they looked—to learn to accept themselves as they were…beautiful, as he saw them. There was no need for the mirrors now he’d given up teaching other women, and Ruby had started loving herself from the day she’d met Harry, but they remained in place—they made for good sex. Watching them together was a huge turn-on for her.

  “What have I told you, Ruby?”

  Harry’s voice broke across her thoughts, sending a shiver of delight through her body. Smiling, she turned until she butted against the sink, her naked breasts thrust up, cream gathering between her legs. Harry, with his words, had the ability to take her from frozen to molten heat within seconds.