“Then you’d better whip me fucking hard,” I spat.
"Oh, I intend to," he growled. "I have a single-tailed whip in my hand, Alain. Ever felt one of these beasts on your skin before?" James's voice rang in my ear, and it was clear he was playing to the crowd.
“I know that you know I have," I replied very quietly. The bastard chuckled in my ear. I'd had my skin flayed a few years back with a bullwhip, and the man responsible had been so brutal he'd left me hospitalised for three weeks. I'd had to have a skin graft to repair the damage, but thankfully a very talented plastic surgeon had done an excellent job. If there's one thing you can be thankful for in my family, it's that there's never a shortage of money.
“Then this will be just like old times,” James purred softly. He didn’t want anyone to overhear us, this time.
“If you leave me bleeding out, I swear to God I will make it my mission in life to hunt you down and kill you while you sleep.” I meant it, too. While I can handle a whole lot of pain, I had no wish to endure that much.
“Relax. I won’t even draw blood. You’ll have some welts that will need taking care of later, but nothing more than that. I’m sure Lois will attend to your every need if you ask her nicely.”
“She might never forgive you for this,” I said. When I’d heard her earlier trying to swap places with me, something had stirred inside me – something I’d not felt for a very long time. I think Lois felt this injustice just as keenly as I did.
“Did I ask for your opinion?” James said bitingly, letting the tale of the whip slither down my back. It looked like I’d hit a nerve. He then slammed me into the wall, and said, “Enough chit chat. Why don’t we see how much you can take?” There wasn’t much I could say to that, so I kept quiet – for now.
The first strike of the lash against my back brought back memories. It was a dark time in my life, and one I'd tried my best to forget, but some things simply cannot be forgotten. Being strung up in a dungeon and whipped half to death is one of them. I hadn't been good at obeying orders back then and had gotten into a lot of trouble for my misdemeanours. Things had changed a lot since then.
Standing on tiptoes, to lessen the pressure of the restraints around my ankles, I took the next two stripes in silence, like I'd been taught, but then realised I didn't have to. I wasn't that boy anymore, I was a man, and I'd damn well do whatever the fuck I liked. Yelling out would help me deal with the pain, and if I scored a few sympathy points with Lois, well, that wouldn't hurt, either.
Relaxing into the brutal force of the whip against my bare flesh, absorbing each stroke as best I could, I tried to focus on the here and now, but it was damn near impossible. Pain, notably my own, always takes me down memory lane, and it’s a bitter pill to swallow.
“Let me go.”
“You little shit, what the fuck did you think you were doing out there?”
“I just wanted to go outside. I just wanted to play.”
“You know that’s against the rules.”
“Why? I just wanted to play. Why are there all these stupid rules?”
“Enough talking. Bend your ass over that bench and pull your pants down.”
“Why am I being punished?”
“Because you can’t do as you’re told.”
“But I just wanted to go outside.”
“Bend over you fucking idiot. I think I’m going to enjoy this.”
That was when it all started. I was six years old. Apparently, that's when you’re old enough to understand the rules in my family, and I quickly learnt that disobeying them would result in punishments that would have a normal father arrested. My father wasn't normal, though. The police wouldn't touch him, and the sound of his name inspired fear in most people. Unfortunately, I wasn't most people. I'd inherited the family's stubborn streak, and I refused to do what I was told. Up until I was around fourteen years of age, I'd thought being bedridden for a week or so every couple of months was something every kid had to go through. I hadn't known any different. As dysfunctional as our family was, though, we all managed to get along until the day dad nearly tried to kill me.
The whip started out like it was now, biting into my flesh with a burning intensity that set every nerve ending on fire. Dad was a little more brutal than James, though. At the moment, I was being given time to breathe after each crack. Dad never worried about things like that. He also took great pleasure in breaking my skin and drawing blood. I knew James would keep to his word. I'd come out of this ordeal with my skin intact, and by tomorrow, there'd be barely a mark upon me. That didn't mean I was going to escape unscathed, though. Since the day I was left to die in a heap on a concrete floor, watching everything around me turn crimson, I hadn't been able to tolerate a whipping without tears. I didn't expect today to be any different. I'd been lucky that day. Someone had saved my life, and they'd paid the price with theirs. Her face floated in front of my eyes again, sweet, adoring, perfect in every way, and then it evaporated into nothingness. Come back, Alaina. Come back.
I stayed in a kind of stupor after that, feeling the whip attack my flesh, but refusing to acknowledge the pain. My head was elsewhere, in a hell that was so much worse than anything James could think of to dish out. I knew that after this was over, the nightmares would be back in earnest. Fuck. Damn, James and his fucking sense of duty.
"Adie? Are you still with me? You need to make some noise, dammit. Give them a good show. I can move on to the finale after that." James's voice was soft, but somehow, I heard him through the static that was invading my head. Shit. I needed this to be over, so if he wanted me to scream, I'd scream.
The next five or ten lashes were accompanied by blood-curdling screams interspersed with a few yells and gasps for good measure. I let my arms hang limp in the restraints, while my head lolled about from time to time. The image I portrayed was of a man close to the end of his tether, but I was anything but. What I was, was utterly devastated by memories, but I couldn't let myself regress. I wasn't that boy anymore, and pain and fear no longer ruled me.
When I'd made all the right noises, and James was happy enough with my performance, the next round began. This would be the one that was intended to humiliate me. That would be the thing that would make Alain come running. He wouldn't allow the smear to go unpunished because he knew it would destroy his reputation. That was something he protected at all costs. You had to in his line of work.
When James's hand came round to the front of my pants and began to undo my belt buckle, I felt a deep foreboding in the pit of my stomach. Did James know what he was doing here? When Alain found out about this, he would have to deal with the wrath of a monster, and that was probably looking on the bright side of things. This would royally piss him off, and he wasn't someone you toyed with, without expecting to pay the price in return.
After he pulled my belt free, James then took hold of my pants and boxers, pulling them down my legs until they landed in a heap over the ankle restraints. Now I was pretty much completely naked, and I had a bad feeling I knew what was coming next. My body stiffened.
"Relax. I'm not actually going to fuck you. It's going to look a lot like I am, but in reality, I'll just be humping your back. All you need to do is look distressed, rattled your chains about a bit, and scream at appropriate intervals.
“This is madness,” I whispered. “He’ll fucking kill you when he gets his hands on you.” I couldn’t, for the life of me, fathom why James had suddenly developed a death wish. This would be an insult Alain could not ignore.
Hearing a dull thud, I looked down to see that James had tossed his whip on the floor. A drop of sweat then dribbled down my forehead, stinging my left eye as it made its way downward. My hair was already plastered to my face, and now every muscle was tensed for the stunt that James intended to pull next. Praying that he would change his mind, I got the shock of my life when I felt my belt flying into my backside. Jesus Christ. James did nothing by halves. How had I not heard him double it over? The answer was c
lear enough. I’d been stressing about him pretending to fuck me. This was not good news. Losing focus wasn’t even an option, especially if Alain was soon about to be visiting us. Relaxing into the thrashing, regaining control of my body once more, I let the sting of the belt clear my head. This wasn’t James’s fault. He was just following orders, and there was nothing he could do about it. I had to remember that. We were all in the same boat, here. We obeyed. If our bosses wanted to get us all killed, we walked into the line of fire and said our prayers. That was the way the job worked.
“You’re such a fucking pussy. You can’t stop crying, for fuck’s sake. No son of mine is growing up without knowing how to take a beating.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong. Why are you punishing me?” I was now eight years old, and the beatings had increased in frequency. This time, I couldn’t understand what I’d done wrong. Little did I know, but my father didn’t need a reason to punish me.
“This is for your own good. It will make you stronger. Dealing with pain is the name of our business. You have to understand it, in order to dish it out. In this game, if you look weak, you die.”
I wanted to die. I’d been strung up for four hours now, mostly for the amusement of his men, and the skin on my back was molten. Each new lash felt as if it were peeling a layer of flesh off me, and no amount of pleading would get me out of this – I knew that from experience. I just had to wait until he got bored of playing with me.
“Either you stop crying, or I’ll get your sister up here with you.”
Looking up at him, through tear-soaked lashes, I remember gasping at his threat.
“Bring Alaina down, Neil. Let’s string her up beside him.”
“No,” I screamed. “No. I’ll be silent. I’ll take my beating quietly. I promise.” My tears stopped instantly because I was horrified that he might make good on his threat, just to spite me.
“Bring her down. Tie her up,” he snarled, ignoring me. I remember passing out at his words, which was almost a kindness, as when I came to, I saw just how much of bastard my father was.
"Stop it, leave him alone you animal." Lois was now screaming madly, having judged that I'd taken enough. In all of my previous thrashings, no one had ever come to my defence before, and I found myself falling for her a teeny bit more than I had already.
“It’s alright. I can take it, Lois. Save your breath.” The funny thing was, I didn’t want to hear her upset, not over me at least, if that made sense.
“Leave him alone! He’s had enough.” Lois’s voice sounded a little hysterical now, and I could hear her thrashing about as she tried to work herself free.
James turned to face her. “Don’t get yourself all worked up, darling. I’m finished with the belt. Now, I’m going to fuck him.” To make his point doubly clear, the sound of my belt clattering to the floor rang in my ears.
Lois didn’t stop struggling, though. I could hear her rattling away behind me.
“Let him go. This is not his fault. It’s mine. If you do this, I’ll never forgive you.” She then proceeded to go nuts, making as much noise as possible.
It was then I realised that Lois hadn’t seen this part of the script, either. Did she think James was actually going to do it? Mind you, if he hadn’t said anything to me, I’d have probably thought the same.
“It’s alright, Lois. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.” It was hardly going to make her feel better, but there wasn’t a lot else I could do.
James’s growl then rocketed around the room. “Shut the fuck up, Lois, or I’ll gag you. Do I need to gag you?” There was a long silence then, so I guessed the answer to that was no.
"Brace yourself, asshole. You wanted to get fucked this evening? Well, all of your prayers have been answered." The next thing I knew, there was the sound of a zipper being undone, and then with no warning, he slammed into my back. The force of his slam against my raw back and ass was enough to make me cry out, but it obviously wasn't enough for James.
"You can do better than that, asshole. Make them believe I'm tearing you apart. Be a good boy, now, or I'll actually have to fuck you, and neither of us wants that."
Gritting my teeth, I took his threat seriously. With each further slam he took into my body, I screamed as if the world was on fire. Although the spectators behind me wouldn’t be able to see much other than James’s back, they’d be able to hear me, and my cries of agony would be convincing enough for most.
James continued to bang his hips into my body for another couple of minutes, until he then grunted, with what I guessed was a fake climax. After that, he zipped himself up and grabbed hold of my jaw.
His fingers bit into my skin as he said, "I don't want to see you anywhere near my wife after this evening had ended. We clear?" I nodded dully, giving the impression of an utterly defeated man. He then proceeded to pull a set of keys from his pocket, and he moved to Lois, undoing both her wrists. She tried to fly at him, but his arms were so much longer than hers, he easily kept her at bay. Passing her the keys, he then said, "Untie the fucker and send him on his way." There was then the sound of a door opening and slamming, and I finally released the big, pent up breath I'd been carrying since I'd been strung up against the wall.
Oh, God. What had we just done?
Chapter Twenty-Three – Lois
Watching James do the unthinkable, I lay there on the bench with my mouth wide open. For the most part, I remained in stunned silence while he fucked Adie like a demented animal, unable to do a single thing other than blink at the horror of it all. Finally managing to regain the use of my voice, I made my views known, but either James wasn't listening, or he didn't care. Something inside the bastard had switched off, and there would be no reasoning with the man until it was all over.
Logic clicked in eventually, and I realised that he’d probably been given an order to do this. He wouldn’t have shared that one with us, for obvious reasons. Even so, I had a feeling that James was even more devoted to this job than I was because I bet it sucked big style when he’d read his directive. There were certain things that no one enjoyed doing, and it must have cost him dearly to have had to pull this stunt.
When he finally came over to untie me, I was so angry I flew at him, but James had already anticipated the move and quickly put a stop to it. He didn’t look at me as he dumped the keys into my hands, and then he was gone. Just like that, the bastard left us to it. Scrambling to get myself out of the ankle restraints, I shot over to the St Andrews cross, uncaring that I was almost completely naked. I’d deal with that later.
“Are you okay?” I whispered, guessing Adie was anything but.
"Just get me out of these damn restraints, Lo. I need to get out of here." His voice was filled with emotion, the bad kind, and it made me want to throttle James. It sounded like Adie had past demons to cope with, and I wonder if James had known that before he began. If I were to make a guess, I'd have said yes. The man was far too clever for his own good.
Starting with his ankles, I began to unfasten him. Although it didn’t sound like he wanted to talk, I needed to ask him something. “Did he hurt you?” It was a stupid question. The noises Adie had been making had said it all, but I half wondered if the whole thing had been a lie. Surely James wouldn’t have done that to him, but then, he’d done a whole lot of nastiness to me – so perhaps it shouldn’t surprise me.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle. It just brought back some painful memories, that’s all.” Reaching up to unfasten his wrists, I thought that Adie was taking things pretty well, considering. I’d have been spitting mad, and I wasn’t a man. The poor guy had no warning of what was about to happen, and the whole stunt had been pretty brutal, however you looked at it. When both arms had been freed, Adie began rubbing some life back into his wrists, before quickly pulling his trousers back up. Looking at his torn shirt on the floor, he swore violently.
“I liked that shirt.” The man looked furious, as well he should, but I needed to lighten the situation
a little. We still had to work together, and somehow we needed to get through this.
“Count yourself lucky you still have pants. I have a suspender belt and bra to my name, neither of which cover very much.” Looking at the torn mess of my ball gown, I decided there was nothing I could do with it, so I might as well leave it here. Someone would clear it up for me.
Searching through the bag, I found a towel and some wet wipes, and managed to clean myself up as best I could. It wasn’t the easiest task in the world, but thankfully, it didn’t take too long.
Meanwhile, Adie had retrieved his dinner jacket from beside the door and was holding it open for me, so I could slide my arms into it. Hovering close to me, he then did up the centre buttons. It covered all the necessary parts up, which was something.
“Thank you,” I whispered, touched that he was thinking of me after all that had happened.
“You’re welcome.” Taking a lock of my hair in his fingertips, he tugged upon it gently, releasing a sad sigh. “Time to go?”
Opening the door, we then walked through to an empty corridor. It made me pause. Had there been anyone out there, or had James shooed them away on his way out? I hoped we hadn't been in there for nothing. The thought made my stomach churn.
"Come on, let's get a drink." Adie took my hand, and he began a swift march forward. This time we didn't head towards the bar, but to one of Adamantine's private rooms. Adie had no wish to have his nose rubbed in it, and I didn't blame him. What James had done was inexcusable. I was actually surprised Adie hadn't called a taxi and got himself the hell out of here. Maybe he needed a chance to calm down and process things – but how the hell did you calm down after something like that?
Settling ourselves down onto the plush black velvet sofa, we sat there in silence for a moment, cast in waves of flickering amber light from a series of pillar candles that were recessed into the wall. It was a romantic setting designed for lovers, but neither of us had anything remotely resembling sex on our mind. We just needed privacy to lick our wounds and try to regroup.
Flames (A Special Agent Novel Book 3) Page 24
