Beautiful Torture

by C. P. Mandara

  "It's an incredible high isn't it, babe?" Mal says. He's currently pouring another couple of whiskies for us, and this time I think I might need one.

  "Mmm," I croak noncommittally. While our tastes in sex might differ somewhat, there's no way I want to anger the man. What I do want to do is get the hell out of here as quickly as possible. But how do I go about that without sounding rude and getting myself killed in the process?

  "Here." He hands me the glass, which someone has used prior to my being here if the lipstick stain is any indication, but I don't let that bother me. I've probably caught far worse than anything that can linger on the rim of a glass. Taking a large gulp of the amber fluid, I wince as the burn travels down my throat.

  "Alex didn't want to give you to me. Did you know that?" Mal smiles and twirls the whisky around in his glass. He seems amused.

  "I didn't know that," I croak. "Why did you want me?" It's probably a stupid question. Maybe he likes fucking other people's partners. Maybe he just wants to screw with Alex's head. Maybe he's a fucking axe murderer, and he's just waiting to kill me. Who knows?

  "I need you to do suffin' for me." Lifting the glass of whisky up to his mouth he proceeds to drain the lot. He slowly licks his lips, as if savouring the aftertaste. I have a bad feeling about this. Anything I do for this man is going to be on the wrong side of the law, and judging by what I've just experienced, saying no isn't an option.

  "What?" I whisper. I really don't want to ask that question, but I also need to know what I'm dealing with.

  Mal gives me a lazy smile. "I need you to sort out a little problem for me. It ain't one that's going to arise for a few years, but when it does, I want it under control. I likes to think ahead, me."

  I'm sorry I asked. He's obviously not going to tell me anything just yet. On the upside, he's not going to kill me either, because he needs me. Happy days.

  "Oh," I say, as if I understand what the hell just went down. I don't. I don't understand any of it, and I don't want to. If I never come again it'll be too soon.

  "Don't look at me like that, 'Arper," Mal says, tugging on a lock of my hair as he brings my face closer to his. I can smell the whisky on his breath and the cloying scent of his sweet aftershave makes me want to gag. "I need to see if I can trust you first. When you've proven yourself, then we'll talk further." Great. There goes my hope that this meeting was a one-off. I wonder if I'm going to get strangled and fucked every time I see him. I really hope not. Mind you, the alternative might be worse.

  "You can trust me, Mal," I say foolishly.

  "Well, I'm really glad you've said that, 'Arper," he says jovially, "because when I let you know what you've got to do you'll do it with no questions asked, won't you babe?"

  He gives me a look. I know that look. I gulp and nod my head.

  What Mal's just said without words is that basically, if I don't do as I'm told, I'm dead.

  "Wakey, wakey, princess." I snap out of my dream world in an instant. I know that voice and I don't want it anywhere near me. Peering slowly over the top of my mattress barricade, sure enough I see Gabriel at the bars, and he's doing his best to ogle what little he can.

  I'm lying on my side, because the thought of putting any pressure on my ass is abhorrent, and I peel my left leg slowly off the cold steel slab as I try to ride further up it.

  "What do you want, Gabriel?" I'm not likely to get much sleep this evening, so the last thing I need is to be woken up during the little nap time I have.

  "Now, now, now. That's not very polite, is it? Someone's not had their breakfast this morning." Gabriel starts walking up and down the length of my cage, trying to see if there's a better angle in which to sneak a peek. There isn't. I'm making sure of it.

  Speaking of food, Brandt forgot to feed me this morning and my stomach is starting to protest rather noisily. I skipped dinner yesterday and now I'm missing another meal. Damn it. This is just like old times. I hope he remembers when he gets back.

  "There's no point hiding all those lovely assets up, Harper. For starters, Brandt has cameras trained on you, so I've already enjoyed all the footage of you wagging your baboon-red ass all over the place, and secondly, I'm going to be getting a taste of them later, regardless."

  My face floods with shame at his words. So that's why he hadn't bothered me earlier. He was getting his kicks by watching everything upstairs. I guess as soon as I fell asleep things got boring, which is why he's down here now.

  "Brandt won't let that happen," I say, with more confidence than I feel. Yesterday, I'd have sworn Brandt was on my side. Today, not so much.

  "Oh, I wouldn't be quite so cocky, Harper. In the end Brandt will do whatever he has to in order to make you talk. If he fails, I'll sort this little problem out for him. I had quite the reputation back at Larksham Grange." He sticks his tongue out slightly and runs his finger across it. Something inside me pulses, though it shouldn't. Damn Brandt for revving me up and leaving me wanting. Gabriel is a very attractive man. He could have any woman he wants, or any man for that matter. While I'm not immune to his charms, I should know better. Men like him are dangerous and should be avoided at all costs.

  "I just bet you will," I purr. I'm not going to be the cowering victim in the corner. If he wants to bust in here again I might not be able to electrocute him a second time, but I'll do my best to scratch his eyes out.

  "By the way, Harper, I love that collar and leash on you. I just adore it when a woman knows her place, don't you?" His eyes are twinkling. He wants to get a rise out of me, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction.

  "Have you fully recovered from your brush with household voltage?" I ask sweetly. Two can play at this game. Sure enough, his eyes narrow and venom replaces his amusement.

  His voice sinks two octaves lower as he says, "I still owe you for that, by the way." I get a lascivious leer, and even though I know he can't see anything, my insides shrivel up and die. Gabriel is a Spanish version of Mal. He's got no conscience, no morals, and he'll step over everything and anyone to get what he wants.

  "Come and get me then," I say, with far more bravery than I feel. I hope Brandt's not decided to go out for a twenty-mile run. If he has I'm going to be in all sorts of trouble.

  "You're playing with fire, little birdy," Gabriel says, waggling his very dark eyebrows at me. I ignore him. I'm well aware of what I'm doing; I just don't care. My days on this earth are already numbered. Each way I turn, there's just more misery.

  "If you're coming in, get your ass in here, Gabriel." I have no idea why I'm antagonising the beast. Maybe I have a death wish, maybe I've gone mad, or maybe I just want to get this over with. It's got to be one of those three.

  "My, my, my," he drawls, completely unperturbed by my forwardness. "You have so much enthusiasm for one so young." He moves closer, towards the door and the lock, seeing if it will make me nervous. It does, but I'm not about to let it show.

  "You have no idea what I've got hidden behind this mattress, Gabriel. Why don't you come and find out, sweetheart?" In actual fact I have nothing hidden behind this mattress, but he doesn't know that.

  "I might just do that," he says sweetly, which tells me he doesn't believe my lies for a second. It appears we can both see straight through each other. This should be an interesting standoff. Will he come in and piss his friend off, or will he wait outside and trade insults with me until he's given the go ahead to do something vile?

  "Then I can't wait to watch Brandt kick your ass back to whichever hole you crawled out of," I reply, just as sweetly. We're both playing each other, and I have a feeling neither of us is completely sure which team Brandt is on. It will be interesting to find out.

  "You wish, Harper, you wish." Gabriel leans his back against the bars and goes quiet on me. He's thinking. If he were a smart man, and I'm fairly sure he is, he's analysing his options and deciding what move to make next. I hope he takes his time.

  We stay like that, in silence, for several minutes, until I wonder if h
e's gone to sleep on me, but there aren't many people I know who can sleep standing up. If he's hoping I'll relax my guard he can think again. There's no way I'm nodding off until Brandt gets his ass back here.

  His next questions, when they come, shock the hell out of me. It's not because of what he's asking, it's because of how close he is to the truth.

  "Why'd you do it, Harper? Did Alex make you?"

  I don't answer him. I promised myself I wouldn't get Brandt into this, and anything I tell Gabriel will get straight back to him.

  "If you tell him that he'll go easy on you." Gabriel's voice is almost cajoling. How interesting. Since when does Gabriel care about my fate? And then it comes to me. Gabriel doesn't want me here. He wants Brandt back. He thinks I'm a threat to him and wants to get rid of me as quickly as possible. I almost laugh. The situation couldn't get any weirder if it tried.

  "You still love him, don't you?" I whisper. Two can play at the clairvoyant game. I'm only guessing, but I have a feeling I'm right. I remember Brandt telling me Gabriel became bored with him, but I'm not so sure that was the case. There's something I'm missing.

  Gabriel doesn't answer, which is indication enough that I'm right. I wonder what happened between them?

  "Do you love him?" Gabriel has now turned around to face me, and watching me carefully. I want to burrow myself behind my mattress, but that would be admitting defeat and I'm not prepared to do that.

  "Why do you care?" I say, to deflect his original question. I'm not sure what my feelings are for Brandt, but I know I'm still attracted to him. That hasn't changed one little bit over the years, even after all that has happened.

  Again he ignores me. Neither of us wants to talk to the other. We know we're enemies in all the ways that count, and probably more. Frustrated, Gabriel begins pacing up and down the length of my cell, his face deep in thought as he ponders what to do next. As long as he's not trying to force his way in here I'm perfectly content to sit and watch him.

  Eventually he just stalks off up the stairs, and I wonder what's going to happen next. He's not finished with me. I have no idea what he's up to, but he'll be back. I know that much.

  Sinking down lower onto the freezing cold steel slab beneath me, I try to ignore the burning pain radiating from my butt. It is driving me mad. It's not because it hurts, and let me tell you it really does, but because it's turning me on in the worst way. Alex and Mal would often spank me before they fucked me, mostly because they knew it got me wet in record time. I'm one of those weird women that don't need conventional foreplay. Just give me a few hard spanks and I'm panting in heat, ready for anything. My clit is throbbing in earnest, begging for release, but I daren't touch myself. For one, Gabriel might be watching, and two, Brandt's earlier threat is still fresh in my mind.

  This room is rigged with cameras, Harper. You even think of touching yourself, and I'll be down here like a shot. I'll pin you to the wall, hands above your head, legs spread wide open, and deliver punishments, one after the other, until I think you've learned your lesson. Your pleasure is mine now, Harper, and I don't intend to be generous with you. I had to learn the hard way, and so you'll have to learn the hard way.

  There's no way I'll risk being pinned to the wall where Gabriel can come and gawp at me anytime he likes.

  I'm curious as to how Gabriel knows about Alex, though. Did Brandt tell him? If they shared a cell together, there's every possibility he did. I bet there was plenty of pillow talk in that relationship. It's also possible that Gabriel knew Alex before he was put inside. Depends on what sort of nastiness he was into. I'm betting a lot, but what do I know?

  When I eventually get bored with waiting for the sound of Gabriel's footfalls on the stairs, I settle back and let my eyes close.

  The second time Alex managed to get me on my own was far more frightening than the first. I think he thought I'd come running after the episode in the empty classroom, but that little stunt he pulled actually had the opposite effect. I was extremely careful to avoid him and did my best to hang around with a friend at all times after that. I didn't trust him, and I didn't want to enter his world. He curtailed a lot of my fun for a while, but at least I felt safe. I knew that if I started dating Alex Wilkinson my life would change, and not for the better. Don't ask me how I knew, but I knew.

  As I've mentioned before, though, Alex is not someone who gives up easily. His ego can't take that kind of defeat. This time he employed all his energy into studying me and my roommate. He was most interested when I was regularly left alone for at least a few hours at a time. He knew he had to get me somewhere private for what he'd planned next, and he didn't want to be interrupted. At the time I didn't know this; he'd tell me how easy it was to outwit me later, when I had no chance of escaping him.

  Anyway, back then my roommate regularly went out on a Tuesday and Thursday evening for at least two hours to attend some study group or another. She was on a scholarship, just like me, and she wasn't going to go back to her parent's empty-handed. We both knew we had one shot at this, and we weren't going to waste it. But I preferred to study on my own. So when she went out it gave me plenty of peace and quiet to do exactly that.

  One day, after she'd left, I remember making myself a cup of tea and settling down in our ratty old armchair. The thing was so old it had to be propped up on wads of cardboard unless you wanted to rock about all over the place. I'd just picked up a copy of The Principles of Economics when I thought I heard a rattling at the lock.

  "Who is it?" I called. The chances were it would be one of the girls asking to borrow something or other. It could be anything from sugar to the notes for next week's homework.

  The rattling stopped. "Lianne, Rosa?" They were the two most common culprits, and I figured I'd ask what they wanted before I opened the door. It would save me running there and back twice. Waiting a full minute for a response, when the noise stopped and everything went quiet, I figured that whoever was out there must have been called away to do something else. Burying my nose back into my book, within five minutes I was once again immersed in a world of figures and facts, and anyone could hammer on the door as hard as they liked and I probably wouldn't notice. But what did shock me was a very loud slam of the door and Alex Wilkinson's booted feet coming straight for me.

  I dropped the cup of tea I was holding as I looked up at him, aghast. Broken china bounced up off the floor with a splintering crash and a fountain of warm liquid splattered the bottom of my jeans. My jaw hung open wide in horror.

  "How did you get in here?" I whispered. I remember squirming back against my chair as he advanced towards me, his trademark smirk firmly in place. I also remember my eyes darting towards the door, wondering if I'd make it out if I sprinted my ass off.

  "Don't even think about it," Alex said, shaking his head. "You aren't outrunning me, Harper." This was coming from the captain of the football team, and he had a good point. If lucky I'd get to the door, but I wouldn't get any further.

  "What do you want?" I gritted out. If I couldn't run I'd have to stay and face him, but I needed to get out of here as soon as possible. Lucy, my roommate, wasn't due back for hours, so no rescue party was coming. Mind you, there was always screaming. If I started yelling my head off there was a reasonable chance someone would come running.

  "Don't even think of screaming, or I promise you, you'll regret it." He gives me a look that says 'don't fuck with me', but I ignore it. If I remain with him I know what will happen, and I don't want to go down that road. I need to stay away from the man.

  Opening my mouth wide I get ready to holler to all and sundry, but before I know what's happening Alex has made a lunge for me, dragging my body close to his chest as a hand is clasped over my lips.

  "Tsk, tsk, tsk," he tuts, shoving his body up close and personal with mine. It's a little too close for comfort because I can feel his erection pressing against my butt. This is not good. Not good at all. "Oh dear, Harper," he says, in a voice that is not at all disappointed, "it seems
you've been a very naughty girl. Unfortunately, that means you must be punished." I have no idea what he's on about, but all sorts of horrible things are going through my head. What is he planning to do to me? Will help arrive in time before anything nasty happens? Will they find my body buried in a field somewhere twenty miles from here when this is all over? Surely I haven't navigated myself through several long years of foster care, only to end up in shallow grave somewhere? I worked hard for this. Really hard. I deserve my break.

  Biting his hand as hard as I can he yells and relaxes his grip around me. This is my cue to run as fast as I can, and I do, but the beast behind me is hot on my heels. Just as my hand grips the door handle I feel myself slammed into the wall, but this time he's wrapped his right arm around my neck.

  "You even think of screaming and I'll tighten this hand until you pass out." He gives me an indication of what he's capable of, tightening his grip around my throat until I choke, watching as I scrabble madly at the door that is no longer an avenue of escape. I've lost this battle, and we both know it.

  "What do you want?" I repeat. My skin is crawling and I need his hands off me. Somehow I have to diffuse this situation, but I have no idea how. There's a crazy person in my dorm who's just threatened to leave me unconscious on the floor. I can't let that happen. Hell knows what he might do to me if it does. I feel my knees go weak. I know I'm overreacting, but it's difficult not to when someone's got their hands around your neck.

  "I want you to go sit back down on your chair. Think you can be a good girl and do that for me?" The grip around my throat relaxes slightly. The scent of leather from his jacket surrounds me and I decide I don't like it. In a few years I'll come to hate it, but at this point we're at the dislike stage.