Beautiful Torture

by C. P. Mandara

  "I'm going to play one 'anded now, 'Arper. That way my other 'and can play with you."

  I can't tell Mal how excited I am about this prospect, because I'm still fighting for my life on the bed. He doesn't seem deterred by my lack of enthusiasm, though. Bringing one hand up in front of my legs, he finds my clit and begins circling it with his fingers. This time I have no energy left to fight him. Breathing is far too important.

  "Good girl," he soothes, stroking my hair. "What a good girl you are." His fingers work me over and over, and he takes his time, alternating between sinking either his fingers or his cock deep inside me. As much as I want to, I can't fight the arousal. It comes upon me in steady, humiliating waves, and before I know what's happening I'm pressing my body back against him, eager for more.

  "That's it. Give in to it. Show me how much you want my cock, 'Arper." His fingers don't stop what they're going, they just take me closer and closer towards the edge. Finally, figuring all the nastiness is behind me, I let myself relax a little, and it's easier than it should be because Mal's fingers are very talented.

  He takes me nearly to the point of orgasm, but then stops just as I let out a petulant little groan. My clit pulses madly between my legs, annoyed that it has been cheated out of its reward.

  "Not yet, sweets. You 'ave to earn that privilege. Now get on your knees and show me what you can do with that mouth of yours." Mal doesn't wait for me to comply. He manhandles me roughly to the threadbare carpet underneath my feet and tips my head up, so I'll be ready for him. His cock is already in his hands, and he fists it a couple of times in front of my face so I get the idea. There is no way I'm messing with the guy in front of me, so I open wide and wait for the inevitable to happen. It doesn't take long.

  Thrusting forward, Mal sinks to the back of my throat and stays there, watching my eyes. He's waiting for the moment I realise he's not going to let me breathe again. I think he wants to see me lose it, but I haven't got the energy for that. Judging by his past performance he'll either let me breathe or he'll wait for me to pass out and then let me breathe. Struggling isn't going to do anything other than turn him on, and I'm in enough trouble already.

  After fifteen or twenty long seconds go by he withdraws and smiles. "You're learning," he says. He thrusts in again and begins counting me down. Starting with thirty, he watches as I suck in a lungful of oxygen before sinking again to the back of my throat. Holding himself there he waits out the allotted timescale, and then begins again, adding five seconds to the clock. It looks like he's trying to work out how much time it's going to take to break me. I don't think it's going to be very much. We play this game until he gets up to a minute and ten, and then my head starts bouncing around as I begin to lose it. I get another slap across the face for my troubles, before I'm slung back over the bed.

  One hand comes back to my work my clit while the other returns to my neck. At this point I want to sob my heart out, but I daren't. I don't have enough air for tears. My body is both petrified and consumed with lust within minutes of his fingers beginning again. I can tell Mal is having a whale of a time behind me with his heavy groans of enthusiasm as he thrusts inside me. The bastard then brings me to the point of orgasm and near-death a further five times, before he finally lets me come. It's the most incredible orgasm I've ever had - and the most terrifying.

  You'd think after I'd taken all that I'd be allowed to go home, right? You'd think wrong.

  Chapter 8 - Brandt

  The walk back down the stairs is a long one. I don't know why I thought Harper and I would come to some sort of arrangement after yesterday, but it's abundantly clear that we haven't. She's taking stubbornness to a whole new level, and if I'm honest, I'm ill-equipped to deal with this shit. I want to be done with this whole sorry ordeal and I don't want to hurt her any more. I'm not sure what's happened to her exactly, since I've been put inside, but I do know it's not pleasant. She started screaming in the middle of her sleep last night. Yelling out things like 'don't touch me', or 'please don't do this again'. Now that could have been me she was dreaming about, but somehow I don't think so. The first night she was here she had nightmares, and it pains me to watch her when she's in the middle of one. Last night I thought someone was trying to kill her because she nearly screamed herself hoarse. And trying to wake her up had no effect. Once she's caught up in those dreams, they take her under.

  I want to know exactly what she's got herself caught up in. What has her so spooked she daren't even talk about it?

  "You're up early." Gabriel startles me, already sitting upright at the kitchen counter with a book in his hands. An unfinished plate of toast and marmalade sits beside him. Putting the book down gently, he turns to face me.

  "How's the head?" I ask, draining my mug of coffee before loading it into the dishwasher. At least the kitchen is well-equipped. The rest of the house still lives in the dark ages.

  "Sore, but better than it was yesterday." Gabriel rubs the back of his head, wincing a little. I don't feel sorry for him.

  "What did you do to her yesterday? While I believe your answer of 'nothing', mostly because you didn't get a chance to do anything, you must have threatened her with something. She tried to kill you for fuck's sake." I have a rough idea what happened, but I want to hear it from him.

  Gabriel's mouth flattens. "Fine. I threatened to fuck her. Or torture her. Maybe both. I was trying to help you out," he whines.

  This is pretty much what I figured. "I can do without help like that," I say sharply. "All you created was a giant mess that I had to clean up. Did you enjoy your little walk in the forest?" I know he didn't. I saw the state of his coat this morning. It was almost covered in mud from head to toe. He must have been freezing by the time he got back here.

  "Not particularly. Next time, do me a favour and rent a property in the south of Spain. It's much warmer there." Gabriel bites the corner off a round of toast and grimaces.

  "I'll bear that in mind for my next kidnapping expedition," I say dryly. I'm still a little affronted I can't fly to the states due to the fact I have a criminal record on my file. Yet another thing I can thank Harper for.

  "So, what are you going to do about her?" Gabriel looks up at me, takes another bite of his breakfast and waits. I have no answer for him. I can't seem to think past the next five minutes at this point, and I need to. I have Helena hanging over my head. I need to get a move on.

  "I don't know. Do you have any bright ideas?" I know I'm going to regret asking that question, but I do anyway.

  "Plenty but judging by your earlier reaction you won't want to hear them. Looks like you're going soft in your old age, Brandt. Have you forgotten everything you learned inside?" Gabriel sounds a little disgusted with me, which I guess I can understand. We talked about what I'd do to Harper when I got my hands on her, and at the time it seemed like a good idea. That was then, though. Now, there seem to be so many things I don't understand, I'm not sure where to begin.

  "Everything isn't as black and white as I thought it would be," I say, opening the fridge door and pulling out a carton of milk. I'm having good old-fashioned Scottish porridge oats for breakfast. I need something to warm me up.

  "Bullshit. You're still in love with her. I knew you were back then, and you still are. Why don't you just admit it to yourself?"

  My body goes ramrod straight and the fridge door slams shut. I spin around to face him.

  "What did you just say?" My face is aghast.

  "You heard me. You're in love with her." Gabriel is not one to beat about the bush.

  "What on earth makes you say that?" Now here's the interesting part to that answer. I should have immediately denied his statement. I didn't, and that's telling enough in itself. Am I in love with Harper? Am I kidding no one but myself here?

  "I've seen her Brandt. I'm not stupid. You know, I always wondered, though I never asked. Was she pretty? Was she smart? Was she the girl you'd go to prison for? But you two weren't like that, were you? Why not, Brandt?
There's something between you. What is it?"

  I don't want to answer that loaded question. Besides, after all that's happened whatever was there has long since disappeared. There's no way I could ever forgive her for what she's put me through.

  "Nothing's there. I need to get her to confess and then I need to get rid of her."

  "And then what?" Gabriel waves his piece of toast around. "Are you going to marry some rich aristocrat and have aristocratic babies?" He smirks at me. He thinks he's joking. Gabriel has no idea how close to the truth he is.

  Shoving the bowl of porridge in the microwave, I sit down wearily. "Go home, Gabriel. I can figure this out on my own. I shouldn't have dragged you into this."

  "No way am I doing that. Things are just starting to get good. Want to know what I think you should do to her?"

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes. The last thing I need to hear is this, but I'm going to hear him out anyway. Firstly, because he's come all this way as a favour to me, and secondly, because if anyone can make Harper squeal, it is probably Gabriel. That doesn't mean I'm going to follow his advice, but I guess there's no harm in hearing it.

  "Go on then. Tell all." My breakfast pings and I pull it out of the microwave, grabbing a spoon on my way past. Taking a seat alongside him I prepare for the worst.

  "Drop the girl in at the deep end. I think you should tell her you'll give her to me if she doesn't do as she's told. It'll scare her witless, take my word for it." Gabriel grabs his mug of coffee and begins waving it around. He can get very animated at times. I back my chair up a little, making sure I'm nowhere near it.

  "To do what with?" This may be a stupid question, but I want to make sure we're both on the same wavelength here.

  Gabriel gives me a disgusted look and I nearly laugh. "To fuck, Brandt. That thing men and women do when they don't have any clothes on. I know you've been on the other side of civilisation for the past five years or so, boyo, but you must member the fucking part. It's quite good fun. Even when there aren't any women." He gives me a coy smile. I haven't seen that look in quite some time. It does things to me that it shouldn't, and I feel my balls clench.

  "I remember the fucking part, Gabe, you made damn sure of it." I don't look at him as I say that but concentrate on digging my spoon into my porridge. It's the breakfast of champions. It deserves to be studied in great detail.

  "We could both fuck her together, Brandt. Just like old times, but better." Gabriel's voice darkens. Lust pools in the base of my stomach. I told myself I would never go there again, and my body is already betraying me.

  "I don't fuck men any more, Gabe. I said when we were done, that would be it. I know you remember that part." If he doesn't, I certainly do. I remember the exact day I fell in love with the bastard sitting across from me, and I also remember the day he walked out on me - to shack up with someone younger and prettier. It shouldn't still hurt, but it does. Although he probably did me a favour, he still stuck the knife in, and I remember shit like that.

  Gabriel shrugs his shoulders, completely unphased by my outburst. "You don't have to fuck me. You can fuck her. Stop finding problems where there are none. Threaten her with me. If that doesn't work, threaten her with us. If that doesn't work, I have one last idea, but I'm not sharing that with you yet. It's too early and you haven't got your full dose of Vitamin D. Get yourself out for a run. You'll think more clearly after that. Harper will wait. I'll keep an eye on her." He grins.

  "If you go anywhere near her," I threaten, "I will play ping pong with your fucking balls."

  "Well, you better get out for that run then. You'll need to practise if you want to catch me, baby." Gabriel grabs his book, buries his nose in it, and sits there smirking. I want to kill him.

  "I think..."

  "Run. We'll talk after that." He waves me off with one hand, and I, like the fool I am, obey him. It's an automatic reaction. I've spent too many years doing every damn thing he tells me to.

  When I get back to my room I let Harper up for a bathroom break. Looking over at the table, I notice the coffee's all gone. I wonder how her thinking time went. Judging by the expression on her face when I pushed the door open wide, not well.

  Pulling some shorts and a T-shirt out of my drawer, I start getting changed. I do need to run. Gabriel was right. I'm in such a foul mood I couldn't make a decision to save my life. Hopefully, I'll come back with a clearer head when I've put a good ten kilometres between me and the disaster that is my life. I'm not hoping for big things on my return, but maybe I'll figure out a way to end this once and for all.

  I already know Gabriel wants to fuck Harper. She's female, and she's got a pulse. There's more to it than that, though. He wants her because I want her, and he likes to play with his toys. It doesn't hurt that she's a very attractive woman, either. I can't let him in again. My head got pretty messed up last time I let him near me, and I don't think I could cope with the fallout a second time around. I might have got over the fact that I've slept with a man, but not that I fell in love with one. That hit me hard. I'm not sure I'm over it, even now. The thought of watching him fuck Harper excites me, scares me, and horrifies me. It excites me because it would turn me on. It scares me because I don't want to face the fact I might still have feelings for Gabriel. It horrifies me because the thought of him sleeping with Harper makes me insanely jealous. See what a mess I am? If Gabriel's earlier statement about me being in love with Harper is correct, and I fear it might be, then there's a chance I might be in love with two people at the same time - neither of whom want me. It really sucks to be me.

  Hearing the tap in the bathroom run while Harper washes up, I wonder what I should do with her while I'm gone. Do I put her back in the cell? I know Gabriel will be all over her as soon as I leave, but there's little I can do about that. He won't touch her without my say so, but I have a nasty feeling I might let him loose on her. She's not going to talk to me, so maybe she'll talk to him. In fact, if anyone can get her to spill the beans, it's probably him. He'll go about it in an unconventional way, but I'm not really one to talk about that.

  The bathroom door opens, and Harper shuts it behind her quietly. Her face is wet from where she's just washed it, and her eyes are tired. I remember I haven't fed her yet this morning, and that's very important. I don't want to throw her out of my life half-starved. When she leaves here she needs to be in a better condition than when she arrived.

  "Are you ready to talk yet?" I don't know why I ask the question. I already know the answer by the expression on her face. Sure enough, she shakes her head at me. "Fine. I'm going for a run. You're going back down to your cell where you can tidy up the mess you made yesterday." She visibly stiffens. I know why, but I wait for her objections.

  "Is Gabriel still here?" The whites of her eyes are in stark contrast to the dark gloominess of the room. My little liar is not a happy liar.

  "Yes." I can't see him going home before this situation is resolved, either. He seems to be on board with the 'getting Harper to talk' plan and is taking the job on as a personal challenge.

  "Are you locking me inside the cell?" Harper chews her lip nervously. I wonder if she's harbouring thoughts of escape again.

  "Yes." I don't want another episode like yesterday. When I get back from my run the last thing I want to do is go on a ten-mile hike.

  "Gabriel can get through that lock." There's a wobble in Harper's voice, which is when I realise she's far more scared of him than she is of me. It's something to store away for future use. Maybe I should take him up on his earlier offer.

  "I know he can." There's no way he'll be stupid enough to let her escape a second time around, though. I know that much.

  Harper's eyes dart this way and that as she thinks of a suitable argument to prevent me from leaving her alone in the house. "Aren't you worried he'll kill me while you're gone?"

  "No." I'm not worried he'll kill her. I'm worried about plenty of other things, but I know he won't kill her - not yet, anyway. But if I'm hon
est I think he'll wait until I come back before pressing the issue. What he really wants to do is fuck with us both at the same time. That would make his twisted little mind very happy. I know how he works.

  "So you're just going to leave me at his mercy?" Harper's body sinks into the mattress as she realises the implications of what I've just said.

  "Yes. You're not going to talk. You've made your own bed. Congratulations - you now get to lie in it." I hold my hand out for hers. If she gives me any trouble whatsoever she'll have my hand pounding into her ass, and I'll put her back on the damn leash.

  She doesn't move off the bed. She looks at me with eyes weighed down by tears, and her lip wobbles. She's about to have a moment. I have no time for that.

  "Either take my hand or get down on the floor and crawl. I don't care which." My voice again has a hard edge. She's smart, she'll get the message.

  "Brandt, if I go back down there and you're gone, there's no telling what he'll do. He can be inside that cell in seconds, and you know it. You can't leave me alone with him." She makes no move to take my hand, nor does she get on her hands and knees. If she thinks she has the measure of me, she's very much mistaken.

  "Get on the floor, now, Harper. Else I'll have you over my lap in a heartbeat. This is your last warning." I'm done with her cryptic comments. I'm not even sure if I can believe a word she says. If she married Wilkinson, I'm pretty sure she became a very accomplished liar shortly after. He was known for it. I don't know what I'm fucking doing any more. Am I infatuated with her? I bloody hope not.

  "I can't, Brandt; I had too much of that with Alex. I can't, I can't..."

  She's openly sobbing now. What the hell has gotten into her?