The Velvet Caress

by C. P. Mandara

  Eventually the Cat stopped. The women filed out as silently as they had walked in. I hung from the ropes, my eyes almost rolling and my mouth dribbling as the pain crippled me. I was barely aware of what was going on around me but certain things registered in mind. I remember the candles being taken away. The flames seemed to have doubled in size and my eyes were drawn to their almost magical light. Their warm amber glow and the hint of vanilla on the air were almost soothing as they began to disappear from my sight. Eventually the piece of wood that had kept me silent for the last ten minutes dropped from my mouth. A keening wail emitted from my mouth, but it sounded foreign to my ears. What the hell was happening to me? I never broke down, never.

  'Let it go, Mark.'

  As usual Sophia knew me better than I knew myself. Finally, now that the room was empty, the tears came. She untied me carefully, helping me down onto a chair. All the while she stroked my hair and made soothing noises. I think she knew I was in a cold dark place, and I had an idea she'd seen something similar herself.

  Somehow Sophia managed to get fluids into me while she cleaned me up. I was of no use to her whatsoever. Grief had taken over completely. Crawling into a miserable hole inside my head, I wallowed in self-pity while I tried to drown myself in an ocean of bitter salt tears. Normally I would have been horrified at this kind of weakness, but after the evening I'd just endured I felt entitled to my momentary lapse. If Sophia didn't like it that was her problem, not mine.

  'She'll come around. You'll see.' More soothing words, but they sounded hollow to my ears.

  'After what you've just endured it would be a crime if she didn't. You deserve a second chance, Mark. Believe you'll get one and you will.' She sounded confident, but then again her partner hadn't just swallowed one of the most deadly poisons known to man. It was hard to be positive when the odds were stacked very dangerously in the wrong direction.

  Believe. The word echoed in my head. I wanted to believe. Oh, how I wanted her words to come true. As she ran her fingers gently through my hair, humming softly as she did so, I let myself go for a moment or two. My thoughts bounced from the depths of despair to the heights of 'what ifs' and they didn't stay on any one subject for long. There was too much going on. I could barely separate them, nor did I want to. The confusion and jumble could be sorted out later.

  Sophia was generous with her time. She didn't hurry me, nor did she tell me to pull myself together, and I'd fully expected her to. She simply let me be. When I was finally all cried out, and could breathe again through my nose, I finally decided it was time to go home, but perhaps not before I'd had a chance to fully clear the air between us.

  'Why the fuck did you put me through that?' More than annoyed, I wanted to reach out and wring her neck. To do so would be more pain than I could handle though, and that was saying something.

  'Isn't that what you wanted, darling? To suffer the fires of hell in order to repent for your misdeeds?'

  'You knew exactly what I wanted. Pain. It clears my mind. I wanted you to flay the flesh off my back, pure and simple. What the fuck was the humiliation for? Did you want to prove something? If so, it was lost on me.' I was fucking annoyed now.

  She sighed long and hard, and closed her eyes for a moment. 'It was always lost on you, darling.' I thought she would say more, but everything went silent and the next thing I felt were her hands on my back. I hissed.

  'Don't move. It'll be easier on you if you keep still.' Applying generous amounts of antibiotic cream to my lacerated back she hummed gently as she worked. I was glad she was enjoying herself.

  'Fucking hell.' I'd raised my voice, and I'd promised myself I wouldn't do that this evening. So much for willpower.

  'Stop being such a baby. If you can take the Cat you can take a little aftercare ointment. I have some oxycodone for you too.' Hearing a rattle from behind me I turned around and stared at her.

  'How on earth did you get your hands on hardcore prescription drugs?' I hissed again as the cream found a particularly sensitive spot near my shoulder blades. 'Ah, Vivian, of course. Kind of handy to have a doctor in your midst.'

  'Indeed it is.' When she'd finished with the ointment she covered me up with a sterile non-stick dressing and then wound a reel of crepe bandage around my chest several times to hold it in place.

  Popping two little white tablets in her hand she then said, 'Do you want me to get you some water?'

  'I don't want the fucking tablets.' I was being unreasonable and surly, but I didn't much care after what I'd been through.

  'You might not now, when you're angry, but you will later.' She replaced the little pills in an orange vial and handed them to me. Wanting to thrust them back in her face and tell her what I thought of her, common sense prevailed. There was a very good chance I would want these tonight and the next couple of days were probably going to be a little uncomfortable, to say the least.

  'Why did you let me go?' It annoyed me that I had to ask the question, but I needed to know.

  'Because you would never have been happy with my terms. I knew that at the beginning, but it didn't stop me. You were so damn attractive, still are for that matter, but your beauty just floored me. I decided I had to have you, and I pulled out all the stops in order to do so. Even then I didn't think you'd come to me. You kept me guessing until the last minute.'

  'I loved you,' I said bitterly.

  'I loved you too. I might not have worn it upon my sleeve as you did, but I loved you too.' Her voice was now filled with regret, but all those years ago when I finally had enough courage to walk out on her she hadn't blinked an eyelid.

  'Not enough,' I whispered. 'Not nearly enough.' Closing my eyes I turned away from her once again. 'Please leave me alone, Sophia. I can manage on my own now.' I wanted the woman out of my sight, and quickly.

  'I don't think that's a good…'

  'Get the fuck out of here now before I do something I regret,' I hissed between clenched teeth, my hands already forming fists in an effort to stop myself turning around and going mad.

  Thankfully she must have sensed I was serious, for she turned around and quickly left the room. I breathed a sigh of relief. Our chapter was finished.

  Chapter Nineteen - Leyland

  The item I'd held in front of Marianna's face was a scalpel - a stainless steel, extremely sharp, medical grade scalpel. This wasn't the usual kind of stunt I pulled, but I figured time was of the essence where Mark was concerned, so it was imperative to get Marianna to spill her guts as quickly as possible before anyone else was poisoned, or worse, killed. Besides, the magic wand was damn heavy and my right arm was killing me.

  'Give me one reason why I shouldn't carve you up, Marianna?' Pressing the blade against her cheekbone I watched as she shuddered. The delicious tremors that ran through her body were turning me on something fierce, and trying to ignore them was getting harder and harder.

  'Talk to me, Marianna.' Putting the scalpel in my back pocket for a minute, blade side down so I didn't do something stupid when the time came to retrieve it, I eyeballed her. My hand went to her neck and caressed her throat, and even that gentle action caused her to swallow involuntarily.

  'I can't,' she whispered.

  'You can,' I replied, 'and you will.' Taking two steps back from her intoxicating presence I surveyed my work thus far. Her tits were now swelling nicely and had gone a very dark red in colour. When I brushed my hand along the side of one she moaned heavily, indicating that they were now extremely sensitive. Giving each clamp upon her nipple another twist, I smiled when she swore at me.

  The view was no less attractive the further down her body I travelled. Her labia were now thick, red, swollen petals, and her clitoris was bulging from all the orgasms it had received. It seemed to pulse softly under my gaze, as if encouraging me to touch it. Surely not? The girl couldn't be that greedy, could she? Taking her clit between my thumb and forefinger I squeezed it sharply. Marianna threw her head back and yelled something unrepeatable.

&n
bsp; 'Tsk, tsk, tsk,' I said, frowning. 'Naughty girls with dirty mouths must be punished.' She then said some more unrepeatable things, namely along the line of 'what the hell had I been doing for the last three hours if it wasn't punishing her?' The girl had a point. It was time to get back down to business, and I really meant it this time.

  Pulling the scalpel back out of my pocket I twisted it around a few times, so the light caught it. I wanted her to get a good look at it.

  'Do you want to know what I can do with this?' I asked.

  'Is that a trick question?' The fire was back in her eyes and I couldn't help but admire the girl's sass. I kept telling myself that she couldn't be the money-hungry bitch my brain insisted I tag her with, but if she wasn't, then she'd had a very hard upbringing. That didn't quite fit with Mark's girls. They were all polished and perfect, the product of a lot of money and attention. There was something that was off with Marianna, though. She didn't quite fit the norm. I wanted to slice her head open and discover every little nuance and detail that made her who she was. But I wasn't going to use a scalpel. Well, I was, but not for slicing and dicing.

  'I'm guessing that a very large scar along your cheekbone won't do much for your promotion prospects, precious.' I moved the scalpel up to her cheek. 'Don't move, else the damage might start sooner than I intend it to.' She held herself still as a stone as I stood there breathing over her. 'Don't make me do the unthinkable and mar that pretty face.' My lips were inches from hers. I could smell them, I could virtually taste them, and I wanted them inside mine.

  'My promotion prospects were over the moment I drugged Matthews. I'm not stupid. I know how this works. If you're going to do it, do it. I'm pretty disgusted by the male race in general, so if you make sure they stay away you're probably doing me a favour.' She raised her chin a fraction and the scalpel slipped a millimetre down her face. I removed it quickly.

  'That's if I don't kill you at the end of this,' I said, and the temptation to wring this foolish woman's neck was great. I just didn't want to extinguish her life at the same time. But Marianna didn't need to know that.

  'Don't kill me. She needs me. I can't die.' Marianna's voice was pleading, and there were tears in her eyes. Whoever 'she' was, clearly it was someone important to her. Things were beginning to unravel, and I had a feeling I might just be entirely wrong about this lady.

  'Death is too quick and far too easy an escape route for someone like you. The only way I'm going to get any sense out of you is to inflict intense pain. Clearly a scar across the cheek isn't going to do the business.' I gave her my crazy look. I'd perfected it over the years, and I'd been told on more than one occasion that I looked like a complete madman when I used it. By the horrified look in Marianna's eyes it appeared I might have improved upon it.

  'I've had enough messing about, little lady. Slow and agonising torture happens to be my speciality.' The menace in my voice was unmistakable and my eyes were rolling about crazily in my head. I wanted her under no illusions that I meant what I said. This was a one shot chance, because when she found out I wasn't going to torture her - and Christ, who had the stomach for that shit anyway - she wouldn't believe a further word I said. If this didn't work I could resort to drugs to get her to talk, but those were sketchy at best. I could also get her drunk, but there was no proven rate of success there either. So you'd better make sure she thinks you're serious, Leyland. What else could I add to my little diatribe? I spun around and twisted my head from side to side, loosening myself up as I talked. It helped with the crazy thing. I fondled her clit one last time and gave each nipple a heavy tweak. Her face was as white as a sheet now, and if I wasn't careful she was going to faint on me. Let's get it over with and ram the point home, I thought.

  Holding up my scalpel I swung my arm back and aimed towards her head. My arm had literally just started moving forward when she screamed, 'Stop! I'll talk, I'll talk,' and promptly burst into a fit of hysterical tears.

  Thank fuck.

  The woman couldn't breathe for a minute or two, under the flood of snot and tears that poured forth, but I was in no hurry. She'd spill the beans now, because the consequences of not doing so were much worse than death. Did I feel like a total shit for putting her through that crap, which would likely give her nightmares for years to come? A little. My conscience had dealt with far worse in the past though. I'd get over it and still manage to sleep at night. More's the pity.

  Chapter Twenty - Mark

  I regretted sending Sophia away so quickly. Trying to get myself dressed without any help was agonising in the extreme. Still, it was nothing more than I deserved. The pain reminded me why I was here, and why I'd wanted to suffer in the first place. Right now the only thing on my mind was getting back to Jennifer. I desperately needed to see her face and hold her hand, just to reassure myself she was still alive.

  Forgoing the underwear I had brought with me I decided to go commando. The elasticated waist of my black boxer shorts would drive my back crazy. My trousers would have to be enough, and even they weren't going to feel very pleasant for the next couple of days. Slipping my feet back into my loafers, which was a thankfully painless procedure, I sat there for several long minutes contemplating putting my sweater back on. This, without doubt, was going to hurt. Now I could take the oxycodone Sophia had left me and wait for them to kick in, but that would kind of defeat the object of my time here. So I sat quietly until I'd gathered the necessary courage to get on with it. Raising my arms above my head had me sweating like a nun in a field of cucumbers. Seriously, the effort required to stretch that raw skin was off my pain scale chart. Holding my breath and clenching my teeth as tightly as I could I put my arms in the correct holes and dragged it down sharply in one move. Then I yelled. Don't ask me why, but yelling helps with pain. Maybe it just gave me something else to focus on, but I wasn't going to knock it. Closing my eyes for a second, glad that the ordeal was over, I slowly got to my feet and put one foot in front of the other. In no time at all I found myself at the front door. Sophia was already there, waiting for me.

  'I've called you a taxi.' Her voice was imperious and terse. Too bad I didn't give a fuck.

  'That's nice for you. Tell the driver I said "hi".' Reaching for the front door handle I pushed it down sharply and pulled back. I held on to the hiss of pain that wanted to escape from even that small action, but there was no way I was letting her see any more weakness. We were done.

  'You can't drive in the condition you're in. If you had an accident I'd never forgive myself.' Her voice lowered to a mere whisper. I was the one back in charge and if there was a pendulum in between us it had swung back firmly in my direction.

  'Goodbye Sophia.'

  'Did you at least take the oxycodone?'

  Bringing the small vial out of my pocket I rattled it and smiled at her. She'd take that as an affirmative. More fool her.

  'Thank you for a fun evening, Sophia.' Her eyes looked large and haunted now. I wondered if she'd realised what she'd lost. Probably not. She was just as stubborn as me, if not more so.

  Walking across the road I pulled my keys out and unlocked my car. The sound of the central locking being released sounded unusually loud to my ears. Pulling out onto the road, I didn't look back. I knew she would be standing there, but I didn't want to look at her. I had no room in my head for anything else bar Jennifer.

  Whilst I wanted to break nearly every speed limit that could possibly be broken, I found myself handling my Mercedes very gently on the short drive to the hospital. The smallest jolt sent paroxysms of agony straight through me. Take the damn tablets, asshole. But if I took the tablets I wouldn't be legally able to drive, and it would kind of feel like I'd cheated the big guy out of the deal I made. Just a few more hours, and then I'd take care of myself. Suffering was good for the soul, I'd heard, and I was due more than my fair share of the stuff.

  Upon arriving at the hospital I wanted to race to Jen's ward and kneel at the foot of her bed. The reality was more of a slow hob
ble and pained grimace as each step sent fire through my body. Fire was good. But the ice that fell over me as soon as I entered Jen's room chilled me to the bone. She was still deathly pale and as lifeless as a still portrait. My eyes immediately searched for her bedside monitor to check her vitals, and as I watched the steady green beep that worked its way across the screen I breathed a sigh of relief. There was a deep, dark fear in my gut that she would be taken away from me. I didn't deserve her, and after all the sins I'd committed it would be a fitting punishment. You can't think like that. But I was and the fear was very real.

  Working my way down into the plastic chair beside her bed, I gripped her delicate hand tightly and let my thoughts carry me away because there was little else to do in this place. My head slumped heavily against my chest.

  So, I'm the man who is never wrong, and yet here I am, pretty sure that I am indeed wrong. Wrong about her deceit, wrong about her involvement in this mess, and just about completely wrong in everything else that might count too. That wouldn't be a problem normally. Up until now women had been expendable. If one displeased me there'd be another waiting around the corner, and another, and another. Alas, that was no longer the case. After I'd finally admitted I was in love with Jennifer, the role I actively played in her downfall was impossible to bear. She was at death's door for fuck's sake. Between her father and me there was a good chance she might lose her life, and there was no coming back from that. I might not even get a chance to tell her I was sorry.

  It was a terrible thought, but I almost hoped she was complicit in the mess that had just unfolded. If she'd been a willing player I might just about be able to live with myself if she died. I now had a strong suspicion that she had absolutely nothing to do with anything that had just happened, and if that proved to be the case I might as well sign my own death warrant. That would be my cross, my burden to carry, and I would wear it around my neck every damn day for the rest of my life. It would be an impossible weight to carry and it might destroy me. That was the price of foolishness, wasn't it?