Heller's Revenge (18 page)

Clarrie had the grace to look
ashamed about that.

“So that’s how you entered our
room, because you work here at the hotel.” I studied his face. It
was pleasantly ordinary – even-featured, nice dark brown eyes,
curly dark brown hair, cutish smile. A bit nerdy, but nothing that
looked like a madman. “You went to uni together?”

Milt nodded. “Best friends since
we were little kids. Grew up together. Went to primary school, high
school and university together. Shared the same interests, same
goals. Did the same course at uni. Even liked the same girls.
Remember Sharron Castelli?”

Clarrie nodded, a reluctant
faint smile on his mouth.

“Man, she was built! We fought
over her and fantasised about her, but she didn’t even notice
either of us.” Milt shook his head, fondly reminiscing. “IT geeks.
No chance at all with a girl like her.”

“So what happened?” I asked.

“
Synonymy
happened,
that’s what.”

“You were jealous of his
success? That’s what he said.”

“Fucking worm! No, I was not
jealous
of his success. I’m pissed off that I haven’t
received my proper acknowledgement as co-creator and my proper
share of the income for
Synonymy
.
That’s
what my
problem is!”

“Clarrie? Is this true? Is Milt
the co-creator of
Synonymy
?”

“No, he’s lying,” Clarrie said
defiantly.

Milt rushed to him and knocked
him flying with a fist in his face. The chair tumbled over and fell
on the floor. Clarrie moaned and I could see blood pouring from a
nostril.

“Milt, please don’t be violent.
It scares me,” I quavered. I had to wrest that gun from him
somehow.

“I’m sorry, Tilly, but he makes
me so angry with his lies.” He turned back to Clarrie and kicked
him brutally in the ribs a few times. “Tell the fucking truth for
once!”

He pulled the chair back upright
and Clarrie flopped forward in pain, continuing to moan. Milt put
the gun against Clarrie’s temple and shouted at him.

“
Admit we created
Synonymy
together!
”

Clarrie groaned. His eyes rolled
around in his head, and he gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“
Say it!
” Milt screamed
in his ear.

“We created it together. We
created
Synonymy
together. You and me.” His head lolled
backwards.

Milt deflated and stood there
breathing heavily. I wanted him to forget about hurting Clarrie for
a while. I wasn’t sure Clarrie could take much more.

“Why don’t you come and sit on
the lounge with me for a while, Milt. You’re looking real tense,” I
called over to him and patted the spot next to me.

He hesitated, but could see that
he was tempted. I fluttered my lashes and pushed my chest out.

“Okay.”

“Can I check that Clarrie is all
right first, though? He sounds hurt.”

“No! Let him sit there and think
about his sins.”

Milt sat next to me on the
lounge and stared at me intently. I could hear Clarrie moaning
softly. “You don’t look like a hooker. You must be expensive.”

“I am. Clarrie’s paying a
fortune for me for the two weeks,” I admitted truthfully and moved
closer to him. I had to take his mind off Clarrie. “You’re much
better looking than him,” I said, trying my hardest to appear soft
and yielding.

“Am I?”

“Definitely.”

I moved even closer, pressing my
breasts up against his arm. Any closer and I’d be sitting in his
lap. He swallowed audibly, his anger dissolved by his
long-simmering hormones.

“I bet you’re better equipped as
well.” And I licked my finger with porn-star intent and rubbed it
over my lips seductively as I looked at him.

“Well, I don’t . . . maybe . . .
probably,” he blustered nervously. “Yeah, of course I am.”

“Clarrie’s teeny,” I whispered
in his ear, my boobs pushing up against him even more. “Not much
fun for me.” I ran my hand up his thigh and squeezed lightly. He
swallowed again. I sat up suddenly as if I’d just had the greatest
idea in the history of humankind. “I know what would be fun! Why
don’t we fool around a bit? Clarrie’s paid for me anyway, so you
might as well. Think of it as Clarrie’s treat. It sounds like he
owes you big time.”

The idea appealed to him
strongly. I helped to persuade him by leaning up to kiss him on the
cheek, my boobs rubbing over him as I did.

He uttered a strangled little
groan. I took the initiative and moved over to sit on his lap,
straddling him, leaning down to kiss him on the mouth.

He thrust his tongue into my
mouth immediately. It didn’t seem as though he’d flossed his teeth
for a while – it was disgusting. I made every attempt to appear
enthusiastic, but it was all I could do not to retch. He reached up
and clutched my boobs through my thin singlet top, twisting and
turning my nipples like he was tuning a radio. The party in his
pants pressed into me.

I stood up and grabbed his
hands, pulling him to his feet.

“Not in front of Clarrie. Let’s
go to my bedroom instead. I have a lovely comfy bed,” I said
suggestively. “He’ll be okay for a while. He’s tied up well. You’ve
checked. And it will give him time to think about what he’s done to
you.”

He followed me like a puppy to
my room, the gun hanging loosely in his hand. I didn’t want to rush
him and try to manhandle the gun away. I wasn’t keen to die for
Clarrie’s sake.

As soon as we stepped into my
room, he was all over me, tongue and hands flying. My poor boobs
got another tuning, and it felt as though he was trying to
rearrange my tonsils with his tongue. I started to feel physically
ill. I pulled away from him with some difficulty.

“I’m so hot for you, baby, but
you have to have a shower first,” I panted with fake arousal, all
my pitiable acting skills on display.

“Huh?” he asked, his brain
almost completely deprived of blood.

I gave him a gentle push towards
the bathroom. “It’s my escort agency’s rule, baby. The men have to
be sparkly clean. I can’t put dirty things in my mouth, you know.”
I gave him what I hoped was a lecherous look.

“
Oh!
” he said, the penny
dropping. He spun and raced towards the bathroom, undoing his
trousers on the way. He was finding it difficult to hold the gun as
he did so, and placed it on my bedroom desk, before speeding into
the bathroom.

God, this is too easy!
I
thought, watching him completely disrobe and jump eagerly into the
shower, his erection arriving well before the rest of him. He sang
lustily as he lathered and rinsed. He finished and opened the door
to the shower to find me standing in the bedroom, face cold and
hard, pointing the gun at him.

“You shouldn’t play with that,
Tilly. It could be dangerous,” he patronised, walking towards me,
not bothering to dry off.

“It will be for you if you come
any closer,” I warned.

He ignored me, and kept walking
towards me, dripping water all over the carpet.

“Stay where you are, Milt, or I
will shoot your balls off,” I promised, lowering the gun to the
appropriate angle.

He faltered before stopping, and
the expressions flew across his face – bewilderment, followed by
hurt, followed by rage.

“You bitch! You led me on!”

Unfortunately, Milt was the
emotional and not the logical type, and didn’t stop to think about
the danger to himself in suddenly rushing towards a pissed off
woman with a gun. He tackled me, knocking me flying, landing
without any dignity at all on top of me. Despite his weight,
somehow I kept one hand firmly on the gun.

We flailed around on the carpet
together, him reaching for the gun, me trying to push him off me
with my palm in this face. He bit my hand and I yelped, letting go
of his face, but not the gun. With my free hand I searched around
his body for something to grip and hurt.

I squeezed a bare buttock,
digging my fingernails in, but it felt too much like foreplay and
didn’t even make him scream. I immediately ruled out touching his
wanger or testicles, despite them being so available, dripping wet
and dangling on me.
Yuck!
So I moved my hand up to his chest
and tried a nipple-gripple. And while that earned me a short sharp
shriek from him, I needed something more to distract him with pain
so I could overpower him.

Obviously thinking the same
thing, he crushed my nose and ground my head into the carpet,
leaning on my face with one hand as the fingers of his other
stretched out towards the gun. Groaning, I clutched a handful of
his hair and pulled on it so hard I could feel the roots ripping
out. He grunted with pain and released the pressure on my face. My
grip on his hair exposed his throat vulnerably and I badly wanted
to punch him there; always an effective move. But I had one hand on
his hair and was holding the gun with the other, so I had no choice
but to sit up and bite him on his Adam’s apple instead, like some
starved blood-lusting werewolf.

He screeched and elbowed me
roughly in the face, cracking into my nose. Warm blood instantly
trickled from my nostril. We rolled together across the carpet,
while I tried to maintain my grip on the gun and he tried to seize
it off me. Eventually succeeding in pinning me to the floor, he
performed what I could only assume was a WWE move – a belly slam
down onto me. It propelled the air from my lungs with a loud
“
Ooof!
” and forced the gun from my outstretched hand.

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.”