Beautiful Torture

by C. P. Mandara

  Pointing at the supplies, I say, "I'd get on with it if I were you. If Brandt gets down here after his shower and sees you lounging about he's liable to throw a fit. And I'm going to make you eat your breakfast off that floor in a minute, so it's in your best interests to do a good job." I give her two thumbs up for encouragement and an outrageous, cheeky grin.

  In response she lets out a little scream of vexation and describes, with vivid hand signals, how she'd like to kill me. I grin harder. I've seen it all before, sweetheart.

  "Bigger men than you have tried and failed to gut me, Princess. I wish you the best of luck, though." I blow her a kiss in return and add in a few lewd gestures of my own. Amusingly, her face goes bright pink and she snatches the brush and dustpan off the floor as if she's about to murder someone with them.

  She doesn't look at me again, which is sensible. Instead, she concentrates on sweeping up my mess and carefully placing the contents in one of the empty bin liners provided. She takes her time, working from one side to the other methodically, obviously taking my earlier threat seriously. I absolutely am going to make her eat breakfast off the floor, and I'm going to rub her face in it, making sure she enjoys the experience. It's nothing I haven't done before.

  "I think you missed a spot back there," I call, just to wind her up. She doesn't even raise her head to acknowledge the comment. She's no stranger to control, either. If I'd done this to Brandt he'd have gone apeshit on me. Harper, on the other hand, is reigning herself in. That usually takes practise. Hmm.

  When she's swept up she leaves the bin bag at the door to her cell and gets the fresh bucket of warm soapy water I've left her. This may be a good time to exit the room, but I don't. If she throws it at me I'll have even more ammunition when Brandt gets back, and I'll take all I can get. The more annoyed he is the more leeway he'll give me, and let's just say I want plenty. I'm going to make the girl my bitch.

  Surprisingly Harper doesn't throw anything at me. For the time being she seems resigned to her task and her eyes look flat and dead as they stare at the floor. They won't stay that way. As soon as I get my ass back in that cell those eyes will be trying to throw knives at me, and that's just the way I like it.

  When Brandt comes back down around half an hour later Harper doesn't look at him, either. He's carrying a chair in his arms, so it looks like our little session is still on. I wondered if he'd have second thoughts, but the opposite appears to be the case. He's anxious to get the job done. That makes two of us.

  "She's nearly finished. I guess I'd better go and get her some breakfast for round two. We'd better keep her energy levels topped up for what I have planned." Brandt's face tightens, but he nods, setting the chair down on the floor and flopping onto it. Looking straight ahead as Harper concentrates on scrubbing the floor, he runs a hand over his eyes and clenches his jaw. He's not happy about this.

  "I don't have to do this, Brandt. You just have to say the word." I do have to do this and get rid of the little bitch as fast as I can, but I don't want to come over as a callous bastard. That was one of the reasons we split. My moral compass can be rather warped at times.

  Brandt sighs. "Get the breakfast. I'm running out of time. Helena's just emailed me again, and she wants me back in London for a fitting in two days' time. If that wasn't bad enough, I'm to be married in just over a week. According to my parents' lawyer, if I don't comply with her demands my allowance will be cut and they'll send the police over here. I have no idea if that's true or not, but I have to assume the worst. Unless I have a burning desire to rush back to prison, I need to finish this."

  I nod. "I'll get her talking," I say, and give Brandt a reassuring slap on the back. I'm very confident I'll have Harper screaming her life's secrets from the rooftops in less than a couple of hours. I am pretty sure Brandt won't like my methods, but they usually produce results.

  When I bring back the second breakfast tray, Harper has finished tidying her cell and is lying back on her bed. This time the mattress is where it should be. She's given up hiding from me, probably because she knows she has far more important things to worry about. She appears to be resigned to her fate and is simply waiting it out.

  Brandt, on the other hand, is in brooding mode. While I've been in the kitchen I've heard him try to talk to Harper several times, seeing if she'll tell him her side of the story. Luckily, she isn't saying a word. She seems to have clammed up tighter than a pair of leather pants on a generously proportioned ass. Why? Hell if I know. Maybe we'll find out shortly.

  Setting the tray down on the floor, I pull the key out of my pocket. Inserting it in the lock I move to twist it, but Brandt stops me.

  "Wait. I'm not sure this is the right thing to do. Maybe we can—"

  I cut him off. "Do you honestly have the time to go easy on this girl?" I knew Brandt would chicken out, but I'm ready for that.

  "No, but I'm not sure I can..." Brandt's voice tails off. He can't get the rest out, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out what he's trying to say.

  "Do you want to marry Helena?" Yes, I'm being an asshole, but that's the long and short of it. Besides, Harper has got to go.

  "No, but I'm not sure I can watch you do this." Brandt puts his heads in his hands, which should be where I back down, but I don't. If I can't get rid of Harper I'll almost certainly lose him, and losing him to a woman is going to sting.

  "Then don't watch. As soon as I find out anything I'll come and get you." Brandt's eyes are miserable as they look up at mine. I know that look well. It was the one he wore when I first took his virginity, and it was a regular feature for the first three months we shared a cell together. It turns me the fuck on. I know it shouldn't, but I've already mentioned I'm one sick individual, right?

  Brandt shakes his head. "I'm not going anywhere." He closes his eyes, and his breath hisses out through his teeth. "Fine. You go in there and do your thing. Go quick before I change my mind."

  I take Brandt at his word. Twisting the key the cell door swings open, and I pick up the tray behind me. Harper looks at me warily. She's wondering what happens next, although I think she has a rough idea. I'm surprised she's not lost it by now. I was rather counting on her going berserk at the thought of fucking me, but it doesn't look like she's going to put up a fight, which is a shame because I was looking forward to it. I do hope she isn't going to spoil my fun.

  The first thing I do is move all the bin bags and cleaning items out of the cell. If she starts biting, kicking and scratching, the last thing we need is a load of broken crockery all over the place. When they're safely out of harm's way, I pull the cell door closed and toss the key to Brandt. That should ensure Harper doesn't bash me over the head with something in another of her vain escape attempts.

  "Breakfast time," I say sweetly. I know she'll have remembered what I said before about making her eat it off the floor, and sure enough, that's exactly what's going to happen. Picking up the bowl of fresh porridge I tip it upside down and let the contents drop a few feet away from me. I then give her a very long look and smile.

  "Eat up, girlie. Don't make me come over there and manhandle you." I wait patiently for a reaction. I want her eyes to light up with anger, but no such thing happens. Instead she shoots Brandt the look I want, which says something along the lines of 'I want to kill you', before getting down on the floor and obediently crawling towards me. This is not what I expected. Something's not right here.

  If I thought that was weird enough, she then stops just before the mountain of porridge and buries her face in it. She then laps it up, every last drop, dragging her face around the floor as if it's the tastiest meal she's ever eaten. When she's finished she raises her face to mine, licks a line of porridge from around her lips and smiles. Oh. My. Fucking. God. She has no idea who she's dealing with here.

  "What's next?" she purrs. The sound is a low throaty rumble, and it reverberates somewhere around my groin. My cock instantly hardens and all I want to do is fling her against the wall and grind into
her until the rafters above us shake. There's a slight tick in my jaw as I watch her eyes bore into mine. The breakfast thing is backfiring on me, but Brandt isn't going to be happy unless I get her to eat a reasonably decent meal, so I'm going to finish this quickly. Then I can get on with the good stuff.

  Picking up the tub of yogurt, I dump it on the floor, and then tip the bowl of fruit on top. I then grab the mug of lukewarm tea and pour it all over the mess. My smile is a lot less smug this time round, but she hasn't won the war yet.

  "Now you can drink your tea, princess." Harper looks a little less enthusiastic about her task this time, but she doesn't fight me on the issue. I'd expected resistance, and a lot of it, but instead I'm getting instant obedience. What game is this little temptress playing? It's going to be interesting to try and figure her out.

  She moves her head down towards the splattered mess and begins to lap it up. Her arms are rigid as her head bobs up and down. It's clear this type of treatment isn't going to break her, but to be honest, I'd be surprised if it did. The more shit I heap upon her, however, the more likely it is that she'll run screaming - except there's nowhere for her to go. It's talk or suffer, and it's her choice. Actually, it isn't. It's my choice and it will happen. There is no room for failure.

  Gripping a handful of her hair I yank it up sharply.

  "You're not going fast enough, princess. If you don't want me to spank that ass again, I suggest you put a little more enthusiasm into the job." I then push her face into the floor to make sure she gets my message. I can see Brandt squirm on the other side of the bars, but at least he doesn't say anything to stop me.

  Harper takes me at my word and begins moving faster. This could be because she's afraid of me, and I know she is, but it might be because her ass is so sore she can't tolerate the thought of another spanking. I've got news for her. She's getting one whether she wants it or not, but I'm not going to tell her that just yet.

  When she's finally done a tolerable job of cleaning up the mess I pull my T-shirt up over my head with one arm and step towards her. She gasps out loud. I'm not sure whether that's because she's frightened of what's about to happen next, or because she's seen the state of my torso, but it's one of those two, maybe both. I don't ask, nor do I care.

  Clicking my fingers, I bark, "Come here!" I point to the floor beneath my feet. Now this is a move guaranteed to piss off any normal female, but Harper's already proven she's not one of those, so I'm going to wait and see what happens. If she decides to spring at me I'm ready for her, and there's no way she's besting me in a brawl.

  She crawls forward and kneels in front of me. Fuck. Has she done this shit before? Hang on, how long has Brandt had her up here? Maybe he's been training her. That would explain a few things.

  Using my T-shirt to wipe her face, I bend down to squat in front of her. Handing her the last item on the tray, which is a small glass of water, I watch as she eyes me warily. She thinks I'm about to throw it at her. The thought has crossed my mind, but for the next ten seconds I'm going to play nice.

  "Drink. You can use your hands this time, but don't make me regret my decision. Things are going to get really nasty round these parts if you throw it at me." Handing her the glass, I watch as she accepts it with trembling fingers. This means she's more scared than she looks. That's a start.

  Harper drinks the water quickly, as if worried I'll snatch it away. That would be against my best interests, but she doesn't need to know that. I want to use that mouth shortly, and I want it clean.

  When she's finished with the glass she hands it back to me, and risks a glance at Brandt. I know what she's thinking. She's hoping he'll rescue her from this. That ship has already sailed. Grabbing her head, I focus her attention on me.

  "Look at me, and only me," I say in a dangerously soft tone. "If I catch you looking at him again you'll be over my knee, and I won't go gentle on you like he did." Her eyes widen, but she doesn't look away. Instead, she gives me a small nod of acknowledgement. She knows the rules of this game, if nothing else. That's a start.

  "What do you want?" she whispers.

  "You know exactly what I want," I say. "The big guy and I work as a team." Brandt is taller than me by a good four inches, which may have something to do with my Spanish heritage, but where our wits are concerned we're pretty evenly matched, unfortunately. I can usually run rings around most inmates, but with Brandt things got a little more interesting. Perhaps that's why I like him so much.

  "You're not getting that." Her voice sounds defeated, but her posture indicates she is anything but. This girl is a melting pot of contradictions.

  "I am. I always get what I want. You'll figure that out soon enough." I give her a pitying look, and some small part of me, the one where morals once lived, does feel sorry for her. I suspect she's got a tale of woe to share with us, and this story is nowhere near as clear cut as Brandt thinks it is. Rage is colouring his vision, but it doesn't colour mine. Even though I know she's probably a broken little thing inside, I still want to unravel her piece by piece. I like knowing what makes people tick. More than that, I like knowing how to control them.

  "You're not, but feel free to try your best. I've seen it all before and then some." Harper bites her lip. I don't think she knows she's doing it, but it's sexy as hell. I want to take that lip in my mouth and bite it so hard it bleeds. I won't, though. She's not earned that privilege yet.

  "Challenge accepted." The confidence I have in myself is not misplaced. She'll crumple like all the rest of them when the time is right. All I have to do is find out what her triggers are. Everyone has them. It didn't take me long to uncover Brandt's and I don't see why this little thing should be any different. Actually, I know she won't. Right now, she's currently staring at my abs and the array of twisted tattoos that define them. They are a little breath-taking, if I do say so myself. When I got them I went for an El Dia Des Los Muertos theme, and I have to confess, I was quite pleased with the results. I'm a living, breathing skeleton of flesh and inked bone. Everywhere you look there's death and destruction. She hasn't seen my back yet, either. It looks like someone has peeled my skin apart and torn me inside out. It does wonders for my bad boy image. I had the benefit of being inside when we had a decent tattoo artist several years ago. What he did to my body borders on nothing short of magnificent, depending on whether you're easily squeamish or not.

  Placing a hand on either side of her face, I gently rub her delicate skin. "You're so soft and breakable, princess." She is. Harper is a fragile little thing. A bird with clipped wings. The woman looks like she's been stumbling along for a while, and now she's met me there's no chance of her ever flying again.

  She places her hands on my knees, palms up. "So break me. That's what you're here to do, isn't it, Gabriel? I'm used to being broken. Have fun."

  Tipping her face up so I can examine those sable eyes carefully, I try to figure out what she means by that sentence. It would have been sensible to have got some more background info from Brandt before I began, but my impatience got the better of me. Let's hope I don't come to regret that later.

  "Oh, I intend to, sweetheart. I intend to," I purr, and toss her face away from me. I've seen enough. It's time to get down to business.

  Chapter 13 - Harper

  Gabriel is a cross between a piece of the most dark and decadent chocolate cake you have ever dared to put in your mouth, mixed with a generous sprinkling of arsenic. Yep. You want to eat it, but at the same time you're afraid it might kill you. He's as irresistible as candy, and as dangerous as toxic waste. It saddens me to say that I'm not immune to his charms. I suspect there would be few women who were. At least I'm aware that I'm dealing with a monster before we begin, though. I'm already retreating into my protective shell, and it looks like I'll have to stay there for a while.

  When Mal left the country, I never kidded myself that this was over. Even back then I knew the day that Brandt was released would come, and if he didn't kill me, then Mal would make sure
the job was done on his return. I know now that it won't be Brandt who ends me. Our connection is too strong. Gabriel, on the other hand? He's more than capable of it, and perhaps I'll even enjoy myself as he extinguishes what little light is left within me. I'm not even sure I care any more. I've been waiting for this for so long, it's almost a relief that it's finally here. I just want this over with. I don't want to live in fear any longer. I don't want to be hungry. I don't want to be poor. Most of all, I don't want to be in love with someone who will never look at me the way I look at them. All other pain dulls in comparison to that one.

  "Stand up." Gabriel's voice is hard, and I obey it instantly. I'm used to being told what to do. His eyes then devour my body, like a starving man who's been lost out to sea for a week. They are hungry, and they are mean.

  His hands reach up slowly to caress my breasts and I shudder. His touch is soft and light, and my nipples pucker instantly. I can feel Brandt's burning stare from here. I can't believe he is going to let this happen. How can he just sit there and watch his friend fuck me? Does he hate me that much?

  Gabriel then bends his head down to suckle on me, and I let him, desperately wanting to beg Brandt to stop this. I can't be passed around again. I thought that part of my life was over. I seem to be going around in circles, lost in a perpetual loop of nastiness. I have Alex to thank for this mess. Alex and his fucking insane jealousy.

  When Gabriel bites down on my teat and yanks it backward I let out a little whimper of pain. It's only the appetiser, though. His hands then come around my back and rest on the top of my ass, before his fingernails drag a path through the bruised and reddened flesh. Hissing out a sharp breath, I can feel tears begin to form in the corners of my eyes. What is he going to do to me? His hands move between my legs, as if to show me. Putting two fingers inside my already soaking wet pussy, he sighs happily.

  "You're so wet for me, aren't you, sweetheart? Does Brandt realise what a dirty little whore you are? I bet you spread those legs for any fucker who asks. Isn't that right, Harper?" He begins to pump his fingers inside me, and while anger is rising up through my body, desire is lacing my bloodstream causing me to lose focus. I need to pay attention. I need to stop this.