02 Heller's Revenge - Heller

by JD Nixon

  He scrabbled over my body to retrieve the gun, his wet genitals threatening to trail themselves across my face as he did. Double yuck! I did the only thing I could. I balled my fist and punched him hard in his testicles.

  Finally, the scream of agony I’d wanted to hear, I thought with satisfaction listening to the aftermath. I pushed him off me with my feet and rolled over to grasp the gun. I jumped up to kneel on his throat, the gun up against his temple.

  “No more, Milt. Understand?” I panted, both hands on the gun, my nose throbbing in pain.

  He struggled to breathe, my knee cutting off his oxygen supply, my blood dripping gently onto his face. He nodded faintly, his eyes starting to bulge.

  “This is what we’re going to do. You’re going to stand up and walk out to the living area. You are going to sit on a chair while I tie you up. You are not going to speak or do anything I don’t tell you to do, or I will kill you. Do exactly what I tell you and I promise you will live. Do you want to live, Milt? Do you?” I snapped.

  He nodded again, his eyes fluttering upwards into his head. I released the pressure on his neck and he took in giant gasps of air. He slowly staggered to his feet, and we shuffled out to the living area together. I poked the gun in his back a couple of times, just in case he felt like rebelling against my orders. He didn’t, moaning quietly to himself, his stride affected by his tender testicles. He sat down gingerly on the chair I pulled out and placed next to Clarrie, obediently allowing me to tie him up tightly with some of his own rope. Clarrie goggled at the sight of a wet, naked Milt.

  Once that was done I let out an enormous sigh of relief, the tension in my shoulders releasing. I pulled up a third chair, placing it in front of the other two, so I could watch them. Before I sat down though, I quickly sprinted into my bedroom to grab my phone, returning in a flash to find both men still securely fastened.

  “Untie me, Tilly,” Clarrie begged, straining at his bindings.

  “No,” I replied coldly, looking down at him with disdain. “You can stay tied up until I get some extra help.”

  “Fucking cow!”

  I stood in front of Milt and backhanded him across the face. “That’s for wasting my favourite lipstick. It costs a lot of money, you jerk! Think about that next time. You’re not the one who has to pay to replace it.”

  “Bitch!” he shrieked.

  Then I backhanded him again, splitting his lip. “And that’s for touching my boobs!”

  He groaned, blood trickling down his chin.

  “Huh, you got off lightly,” complained Clarrie. “She nearly broke my dick when I touched them.”

  Milt managed to look over to Clarrie. “Yeah? Well, she’s punched my nuts so hard I’ll probably never be able to have any kids.”

  “Shut the hell up, the both of you,” I suggested. I rang Heller, wiping my bloody nose on my arm.

  “Matilda?”

  “I need some help over here. I have two men tied up. One of them is our client, the other is our stalker.”

  Silence for a moment. “I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be. They’re both complete wimps. My grandmother could have whooped them.” I looked at them both with contempt. They heartily reciprocated the emotion.

  “There’s a team close by. They won’t be long.”

  “Thanks.” I hung up, and sat on my chair facing my captives, idly moving the gun from one to the other. “I’m trying to decide whose balls I’m going to shoot off first,” I said casually.

  “God, I hate you!” spat out Clarrie.

  “I hate her too,” said Milt.

  “Not as much as me. I’ve had to live with the bitch for two weeks. Do you know what she did? She made her huge violent bastard of a boyfriend kill my favourite avatar.”

  “Not clarrie_sexgod?”

  “Yes!”

  “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my boss,” I corrected. They weren’t interested.

  “Oh man! That’s unnatural. He was a cool little character.”

  “You knew clarrie_sexgod? You play?”

  “Of course I play! It’s my game too, remember. I love it.”

  They looked at each other with regret.

  “I feel bad that I ran off with our idea and didn’t share it. And you’ve had to pay to play all this time. I guess I became greedy. I realise now that it was the wrong thing to do. I’m really sorry, Milt. You were always a good friend to me and I treated you badly.”

  “Clarrie, that was spoken like a true man. I appreciate that. Maybe we can sort this out after all.”

  “I hope so, Milt. It would be nice to be in contact again. What do you think about Synful Synonymy?”

  “Brilliant! Remember how we used to talk about it in the library, pretending to study? I especially love the NPCs; they were a nice touch. It’s not always easy to hook up with another character. I like the new one you made. What was her name? The one with the big boobs.”

  “Tilly.”

  Milt looked over at me, his face falling. “Oh. I thought she looked familiar.”

  “She made me kill her too,” Clarrie told him resentfully.

  “But she was my favourite,” whined Milt. He looked at me. “Her boobs aren’t that big though.”

  Clarrie shrugged. “Artistic licence.”

  “One more word about my boobs, and I’ll blow both sets of balls away,” I threatened.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Thank God!” we all said in unison. I opened the door and in trooped three Heller’s men. There was a simultaneous raising of six eyebrows as they took in the scene.

  “Are you all right, Miss?” one asked me as I wiped more nose blood on my arm. I touched my nose tenderly, sure that it would bruise later.

  “Better than them,” I quipped, inclining my head towards my two captives. I was about to ask the men to untie them when I held up my finger and dashed into my bedroom. I brought back my digital camera and took a number of shots of Clarrie and Milt tied up, ignoring their protests. I even asked one of the men to take a couple of shots of me between them with my arms around their necks, giving the ‘V for victory’ sign with both hands.

  “Gentlemen, listen to me carefully,” I said as I stood in front of the captives. “These photos will never be released to the world at large on two conditions. Clarrie, you have to stop being such a greedy bastard and publicly acknowledge Milt’s contribution to the success of Synonymy and share in the profits with him. He must be publicly known as the co-creator. Just think about the exciting developments you can come up with in collaboration with him in the future. You’re both so passionate about the game.”

  Clarrie nodded agreement. I turned to Milt.

  “And Milt, you must forgive Clarrie, and for God’s sake, grow a pair will you? Why didn’t you just sue his arse off instead of creeping around for years writing stupid threatening notes like some weirdo?” He flushed with shame.

  I continued, eyes flicking between the two of them. “However, if I ever find out that either of you have reneged on this deal or you are not living in anything except complete harmony with each other, these photos will be all over the internet and the media. Do we have a deal?”

  They both nodded reluctantly and I allowed the Heller’s men to untie them. We let Milt dry off and put his clothes back on and I asked two of the men to escort him from the hotel to his house. He couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

  The other Heller’s man agreed to stay for the rest of the night, so that Clarrie and I could get some sleep before we headed off to the airport. I took a long shower and slept for about five hours, waking up groggy with a sore, bruised nose. I dressed in some jeans and a t-shirt and ambled to the living room, where Clarrie, nursing his own injuries, was showing the Heller’s man Synonymy on his laptop. The man seemed impressed, especially with the adult section and I knew that Clarrie was going to be earning even more money from a new subscription.

  I ordered some food for us all and after we ate I sent the Hel
ler’s man home. He’d already worked a long shift before he came over to help me. He offered to send a replacement, but I thought we’d be okay. It was only a few hours to go until we left for the airport. But I made him take the gun with him.

  There was a soft knock on the door and surprised, I answered, carefully checking in the peephole first. It was Kitty. I invited her in, where she immediately fussed over Clarrie and his injuries. I didn’t see either of them again until it was time to knock on the bedroom door and tell Clarrie that he’d better pack because the taxi would be at the hotel in an hour. I quickly shoved all of my belongings in my suitcase, including my beautiful new dress, although I wasn’t sure I’d be brave enough to ever wear it again. Kitty helped Clarrie pack and the three of us trooped down to the foyer. Clarrie, who was wearing a Dukes of Hazzard t-shirt, settled the bill, which included the cost of my dress and accessories as well as Kitty’s services. It was a phenomenal amount, but Clarrie didn’t even blink as he signed the credit card chit.

  I invited Kitty to accompany us to the airport and had to hold my dinner down as the lovebirds cuddled and kissed all the way there and during the waiting time until Clarrie’s flight was called. Kitty was in a flood of tears and they shared a very affectionate farewell, Clarrie on the verge of tears as well. My farewell with him was much less affectionate to say the least, although he did shake my hand and frostily thank me for my services. My boobs received a more demonstrative goodbye than I did, his eyes lingering on them while he spoke to me, even with Kitty there watching.

  I was beyond joyful when he boarded the plane and ushered a still weeping Kitty into a cab. I dropped Kitty at her house, gave her a friendly hug in farewell, and I headed home. I had never been so happy in my life.

  Chapter 13

  I paid off the cab driver when he dropped me the block away from the Warehouse that Heller insisted on, not liking to bring any attention to his residence. I lugged my bag upstairs, quietly letting myself into my own lovely little flat. It was quite late, well past one in the morning, so I didn’t expect to see anyone before daybreak. But I should have known better.

  I had barely closed my front door when there was a soft knock. I opened the door and Heller was standing there, leaning on my doorway, gorgeous as always. He stared at me and I stared at him. He came in, closed the door and stood in front of me, his hand cupping my chin, tilting my head back. He gently felt my nose, brushed his fingers across my cheek and gave me a half-smile.

  “Hard night?”

  “Elbow in the nose,” I shrugged. “The usual.”

  “The other guy?”

  “I punched his nuts, bit his throat and split his lip.”

  “I’ve been told the two men made up.”

  “United by their mutual hatred of me.”

  He pulled me closer and put his arms around me. I slid my arms around him and rested my head against his neck, sighing with happiness. I gave him a ten second rundown on everything that had happened, including my awful seduction of Milt.

  “I’m not very good at this, Heller. Clarrie absolutely loathes me now. He’ll never recommend us to anyone.”

  “He will, once he realises that you saved him from his stalker.” His hands snaked into my hair, running his fingers through it. It was lovely. He hugged me tighter. “I missed you so much, my sweet.”

  “I missed you too.”

  “Are you still angry with me?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I want to stay here with you tonight.”

  “I’d like that.”

  He went upstairs to grab his things while I changed into my pyjamas and brushed my teeth. I was dead tired and looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again. I had just pulled down the covers and climbed in when Heller returned. He slipped into the black boxers he wore to bed when he’s with me, brushed his teeth, sweetly leaving his toothbrush standing in the holder next to mine and climbed in beside me.

  He lay on his back and I cuddled up to him, my head on his chest, one arm thrown over his taut stomach, safe and happy in his arms. I fell asleep quickly listening to his steady heartbeat. I slept soundly for a couple of hours, then roused and turned onto my side. Heller did too, cuddling up behind me, his arms around me, drawing me even closer. He nibbled on my neck. I giggled with ticklishness and shrugged him off. He tiptoed his fingers up my stomach towards my breasts. I swatted his hand. Then he changed direction and tiptoed them down towards my boxers. I swatted him harder.

  “Don’t be naughty,” I warned.

  He twisted my head towards him and kissed me tenderly on the lips. I let him kiss me again, his tongue teasing me. I mustered all my will power and turned around again, determined to go back to sleep. He settled down again too, taking the hint with good grace. Problem was, I couldn’t get comfortable and squirmed around for a while.

  There was an obstacle between us.

  “Heller?”

  “Mmm?”

  “I don’t really know how to say this politely, but . . . um . . . your hard-on is poking me in the back and I can’t sleep.”

  He laughed softly. “I think it’s bothering me more than you, my sweet.”

  “It’s uncomfortable.”

  He laughed again. “I agree. I’m finding it very uncomfortable.”

  “Can’t you make it go away?”

  “I’d need your help to do that.”

  “Stop it! Do something with it.”

  “I have a few things in mind.”

  “Heller!”

  “What can I say, Matilda? I missed you.”

  “It’s not going to go away by itself, is it?”

  “It doesn’t usually.”

  With an enormous sigh, I leant over to rummage in my bedside drawer. I pulled out my lubricant and squeezed a generous blob on my hand. Then I rolled over to face him and pressed my lips onto his while I slid my hand down into his boxers.

  He gave a muffled gasp, his mouth covered by mine, as I moved my hand up and down his hard shaft, squeezing and rubbing, teasing between slow, measured petting and tight, frantic strokes. I really enjoyed the slow, deep kisses we shared, having a profound need to be close to him after my weeks away. And I’m pretty sure he enjoyed the handjob. After ages, just when I thought my arm would seize up on me, he climaxed messily with a loud groan of pleasure, breathing heavily, his eyes shut. I kissed him a final time and pulled my hand out, sticky with his semen.

  I padded out to the bathroom to wash up. When I returned he was still lying there, eyes shut, a contented smile on his lips. I nudged him, and reluctantly he rose and went off to clean up as well. I was half-asleep when he climbed back into bed.

  “What are you wearing?” I asked drowsily, knowing that his boxers were now unwearable.

  “Nothing.”

  I wished I hadn’t asked. We faced each other, the moonlight highlighting his strikingly blue eyes and white teeth. He reached out to stroke my hair.

  “You have a wonderful technique, my sweet. Very . . . stimulating.”

  “I know this will come as a shock to you,” I returned lightly, glad he couldn’t see me blush in the dark. “But you’re not the first man I’ve done that to. I’ve had some practice.”

  “Now you’ve made me sad, Matilda,” he teased. I smiled and we contemplated each other in the half-dark. “Would you like me to return the favour? I’ve been told many times that I’m very good with my fingers.” Oh, dear Lord! “And even better with my tongue.”

  The thought of his long, elegant fingers touching, caressing, rubbing, probing me, made my heart gallop. And even the thought of his tongue anywhere on my body, let alone there, sent my pulse through the stratosphere. He ran his fingers lightly over my breasts, shooting thrilling jolts of pleasure through me, before trailing them down my stomach, heading for my boxers again.

  It took every atom of will power I possessed to slap down on his hand just as it reached the waistband of my boxers. “No, thank you. I’m saving myself for Will.”

  Silen
ce.

  “Did you hear that?” he asked.

  “No. What?”

  “My heart breaking.”

  “Oh, Heller,” I laughed, “don’t be such a drama queen. It didn’t mean anything.”

  “Didn’t it?” He kissed me gently.

  “No,” I lied. “Go to sleep.”

  “Night, my sweet.” And he snuggled up behind me again and I tried to forget the fact that he was naked. Well, that was an impossible task, so I concentrated instead on how nice it felt to be clasped in his arms, his breath on my neck, his solid bulk pressed up against my back.

  “Heller, do you cuddle all the other women when you’re . . . you know . . . out?” I asked him sleepily.

  “No, Matilda,” he replied, surprised. “Why would I want to cuddle them? I only want to have sex with them. And when I’m satisfied, I leave.”

  “Why do you cuddle me then?”

  He laughed softly. “Because I want to cuddle you. I like being close to you. You’re very cuddly.” A brief pause while he tightened his arms around me and kissed my neck. “And I want to have sex with you.”

  I felt a corresponding stirring in his lower regions against my back. Okay! I didn’t answer, pretending I’d fallen asleep and then he actually did and eventually so did I, trying not to think about what all of that meant.

  When I woke up in the morning, Heller was gone. I went to the gym and revelled in using the familiar equipment again. Then I enjoyed having a shower in my bathroom, cooking breakfast in my kitchen, and . . . well, you get the picture. I was really glad to be home again.

  An exuberant knock on my door broke the peace and I flew to open it. Daniel and Niq stood at the threshold, excitement stamped all over their faces. We had a three-way hug that lasted forever. I almost cried I was so happy to see them. It was so nice to be with people who loved me again.