Personal Protection (27 page)

I was distracted all day after my uncomfortable parting with Tori. I resolved to try and make it up to her at the party. It was something I would have to address, and sooner
rather than later if what we had was to continue.

In my crap mood I must have swept the note aside when I opened the door. I was late. The only thing on my mind was a shower, before I threw on the Master Hand tux and collected Tori for
Dean’s party. If she’d forgiven me.

Towelling my hair and howling along to
Original Sin
by Pandora’s Box, I came back into the living room, noticing the slash of white against the tan of the cork. I assumed that Tori
had been up while I was in the shower and slipped a note under the door when she found the door locked.

Reading it disabused me. I sat down hard, missing the chair, ending on the floor. The message was simple but devastating.

“I don’t think Tori likes my dungeon. Perhaps you d like to trade places?”

It was typed and unsigned, but it didn’t take a genius to guess who’d written it. I threw on the clothes I’d laid out, no time to find something more appropriate. What the hell
would be appropriate anyway? I grabbed my car keys, turned everything off, locked up and raced out.

Cecily’s new house wasn’t far. I’d never been there, but I knew where it was. The place was in darkness, but I wasn’t fooled. The door opened at a touch. It took me a
while to find her dungeon. Like a fool I started at the top of the house; Cecily, traditionalist that she was, had converted the cellar. A door opened into it from the cupboard beneath the stairs.
The only light in the house came from around the edge of the trapdoor.

I walked down steep, narrow, wooden stairs. The kind people end up with when they convert loft space. I was uncomfortably reminded of the Tori I’d found last time I used similar stairs.
Was I more angry than afraid by the time I reached the bottom? I don’t know. I do know I was wishing for Kevlar and my gun when I pushed open the faux gothic door and walked into her fetish
room.

“Randall! Good of you to come. See, Victoria, I told you your beau would come riding to your rescue. Did you park your white charger outside?”

Tori, in the simple satin sheath dress she’d bought for the party, was fastened to the wall by twists of wire. Her spike-heeled shoes stood on a table top, spotlit like trophies. Her hair
was dishevelled, but she seemed in one piece. She looked how I felt. Angry and afraid. Duct tape covering her mouth prevented her from saying anything.

“Let her go, Cecily. Stop this before you go too far.”

“Ah, Randall, been there, done that.”

“Tori’s rape. Lisa Moran’s murder.”

Tori’s eyes widened. She redoubled her struggling.

“Bravo! It took you a while to put two and two together. Was it the perfume that threw you? For shame. It was a ruse! Really, Dean needs another partner. All those lovely muscles have
crowded out everything but average intelligence, I fear.”

I started towards them. Cecily reached down and plucked up a mini blow torch, the kind cooks use to caramelise puddings. Lit. She held it dangerously close to Tori’s hair.
“You’re mistaking who’s in charge. Back, or Vicky finds out how Michael Jackson felt.”

I backed up so fast I bumped into the door.

“I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen. I don’t really want to hurt Victoria again. She was always a means to an end. Do exactly as I tell you and I’ll let
her go.”

“You expect me to believe you? After admitting to abduction, rape and murder?”

“Assault, not rape. And she didn’t report it and is quite over it, thanks to you. Abduction? Perhaps. Murder? Erotic asphyxiation was the coroner’s official report,
wasn’t it? A regrettable accident.”

“Semantics. I’m not convinced.”

“Then you’ll just have to trust me. I am, after all, the one with the blow torch.”

“What do you want, Cecily?”

“What I’ve always wanted. You. Ever since we broke up, I’ve been searching for your replacement. Nobody came close. They either chickened out, went back to their safe boring
little lives, or they enjoyed it. Where’s the fun in that? In beating someone who wants to be beaten? Or cries like a baby when you flog them then thanks you for it! Only you would do. No one
else has your tolerance for pain. No one else hated what I did to them but was still so in the moment that they fucked me masterfully while they bled.”

Jesus! What must Tori think of me? I’d sanitised what had gone on between Cecily and myself when I told her about our relationship. While essentially Cecily was telling the truth, it
hadn’t happened the way she was spinning it. Not in my memories. Had I really fucked her while I bled? Tori would never trust me again!

“You should have seen her, Victoria. On the night I beat her black and blue with that paddle, she had the self-possession to get herself out of the cuffs. No begging or screaming. She
swore a few times, that was all. She was magnificent! She’s wasted on vanilla sex and airheads like you.”

Tori snarled something through the duct tape. Cecily ignored her.

“You never did come after me, did you? That’s how I knew you didn’t hate me. You were just waiting for me to make the right move. Be clever enough to win you back. You even cut
your hair for me. I appreciated that. I really did. Then she came back.”

She glared at Tori, blow torch perilously close.

“Cecily…”

She wasn’t listening.

“Set your car keys beside Vicky’s shoes and go to that table over there.” She indicated a long scrubbed oak trestle. “Put on the collar and wait for me. Since you care
for her so much, I’ll take her home. Then I’ll come back and we can play. Together. The way we were meant to be. She doesn’t know where this place is. A blindfold will ensure we
remain undisturbed. She remains unhurt. We all get what we want.”

“I don’t want you.”

“No? You’ll change your mind. You want Tori safe, don’t you? So you don’t love me. I can live with that. Hate is as powerful. It will do just as well, and I can make do.
It’s either that, or Tori will have to learn to Moonwalk. I don’t think they’d let her dance at the Paradise with third degree burns, do you?”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

I couldn’t let her do this. If she had both of us captive there was no chance. She’d completely lost it. Could I make it to Tori before..?

I didn’t get the chance. When I didn’t immediately comply, she turned the blow torch on Tori’s bare shoulder. Tori jerked away, trying to scream through the tape. I did it for
her.

“NO!!! Jesus! Stop!”

She turned her attention to me and moved the torch away. A patch of livid burnt skin, blackened in places, proved she wasn’t willing to compromise.

“Keys, Randall. And if you aren’t fast enough, it really will be her hair next time.”

The smell of burned flesh convinced me of her sincerity. I threw my car keys at the shoes. One of them fell over but all three items stayed on the table. A post-modern still life.

“Very good, Randall; that wasn’t hard, was it? Now the rest, please. I really will take her home. You have my word. Have I ever lied to you?”

I moved over to the table to show willing. The collar was like a dog’s, leather, studded with metal. No way was I putting that thing on!

“Will you burn me too? When she’s gone?” Keep her talking. Think. Buy yourself time.

“Perhaps.” Shit! She really was considering it! “I have more interesting things I’d like to do to you. I’ve had a long time to think about it.” She looked at
me consideringly. “A mark of my good faith.” She ripped the tape from Tori’s mouth. An earsplitting shriek bowed my head in shame. I’d promised to protect her and I’d
failed.

By the time I could bring myself to look at her, Tori was swearing. Cecily applied an ice pack to her shoulder.

“Do shut up, Victoria. You’re trying my patience. I promised you’d be safe if Randall did as she was told. It’s Randall’s fault you were hurt, not mine.”

“You were the one that burned me, bitch!”

I wasn’t going to let her blame me for her sadism! Angrily I strode towards her again.

She went from solicitous to aggressive in the blink of an eye. I hadn’t taken two steps before she turned the blow torch on Tori’s injured shoulder. Tori’s scream went through
me like a blunt knife. My knees buckled.

“STOP! Please!”

Just like that, she was all sweetness and light and the ice pack was back on Tori’s shoulder. Seeing me on my knees pleased her. Hearing me beg pleased her even more.

“The collar, Randall. Put it on.” I looked at the ground. When I didn’t move she tsk’d. “Maybe it’s true what they say, you really can’t teach an old
dog new tricks.”

Tori whimpered. The blow torch was perilously close to her burned shoulder.

“I grow tired of asking, so I’ll just command. If you don’t want Vicky to suffer put on the collar. Which means more to you? Pride, or the safety of the woman you profess to
love?”

I brought it down. It would be a tight fit. I unfastened the bow tie and the top button of my shirt, then fastened the thing around my neck.

“Good dog! You can be reasonable! And to prove I mean what I say…” She unhooked Tori’s wrists from where they were secured. She was still bound hand and foot, but it was
one step closer to freedom. Cecily covered her with the blow torch, but tossed her the ice pack. With a fumble, Tori caught it, pressing it awkwardly to her shoulder.

“There now! Isn’t it much better when we’re civilised?” Cecily indicated a leash hanging over the table’s edge. “I’m sure you know what to do next. I
promise you I’ll reciprocate.”

She didn’t give me time to think about it. When I didn’t move immediately she sighed and swung the blow torch back towards Tori. Tori’s gasp was enough.

“Don’t! I’m doing what you asked! Look at me! Don’t hurt her because I was slow.”

“You see? Just right. Not a hint of fawning. Even with your health and safety at risk, on her knees, she’s still fighting me. I like that.”

I snarled and snapped the choke-chain leash on to the metal clip at the collar and held my hands away from my body. It wasn’t surrender. I wouldn’t give her that. It wasn’t
what she wanted.

Cecily smiled, as close to happy as I’ve seen her, then kicked a lever on the floor.

You’ve seen retractable vacuum cleaner cables. That’s what happened to the chain leash attached to the collar around my neck. Whiplashed by the action, I was yanked back.

My head smacked against the table edge.

Fighting against blacking out, feeling blood from my opened scalp trickling through my hair, I was dragged up and back on to the surface of the table. To avoid being garrotted I went with
it.

I clawed the collar, trying to slide my fingers between leather and skin. I gulped air into my labouring lungs. My neck made sickening popping sounds.

The speed and torque in the winch were too strong and fast for me to turn or get the collar off. I felt a wrench when I finally came to rest, sprawled across the table on my back. I wondered if
I’d be going anywhere if I did get the collar off.

I was scrabbling at the leather, trying to remember how to breathe, when Cecily appeared above me. I felt a jab through the suit jacket and shirt into my arm. She smiled into my eyes with all
the warmth of winter. Anoxia and whatever she’d stuck me with started to have an effect.

“I’m going to do it right this time,” she assured me.

Then everything went black.

I opened my eyes to blood and handcuffs. I was spread-eagled over the scrubbed oak table, the way she’d once fastened me to my bed. Alone.

Low lighting and the drip of a leaky faucet somewhere added authenticity to the dungeon Cecily had created. I wondered how many people had sampled her hospitality while she formulated her plan
to get me here for her pièce de resistance. I shuddered.

Shuddering hurt. Gingerly I began flexing muscles and joints to see whether I’d be able to escape if I got free of my bonds.

A mixture of drugs, suffocation and the crack on the head made my skull ring with jackhammers. Every time I moved it felt like my worst hangover. My stomach roiled with nausea. I’d have
thrown up if there’d been anything in it. But none of it was fatal – nothing I hadn’t had to deal with – and work through – in my worst moments of excess following the
break-up with Gina. I probably had concussion, which was more serious, but again, nothing I hadn’t had before. I’d just have to move slowly and carefully for a while.

Luckily, nothing seemed to be broken. Whatever had wrenched in my back as I’d been hauled up on to the table was quiescent for the moment. I’d cross that bridge when I came to it. It
was important not to waste any more time. I didn’t know how long I had before Cecily came back. I couldn’t afford to be lying here helpless when she did.

I explored the handcuffs’ mooring and wondered whether she was keeping her promise to take Tori home. Another reason to get free. If she hadn’t the sick bitch would get more than the
taste of pain she craved. Thinking about the way she burned Tori made my blood run hot. Thinking about her raping Tori added fuel to the fire.

I had no picklocks. The chains were welded and bolted too firmly for me to pull loose, even with the fires of my anger warming me. I would have to try something else.

Acutely aware of time passing, I flexed my hands and shaped my fingers into points that would have been familiar to any practitioner of vaginal or anal fisting. I am blessed with double-jointed
thumbs, and I can narrow the diameter across my knuckles to about the width of my wrist. Losing a couple of layers of skin was a small price to pay for freedom.

Next the collar.

The ankle cuffs weren’t so easy. The chains weren’t long enough to let me reach the floor. The best I could do was sit, legs dangling over the edge. Not enough. Unless…

This was going to hurt. I grabbed the edge of the table and rocked violently to one side. The bugger was well balanced. It took three tries to tip the thing over and spill myself on to the
floor. As well as cutting into one ankle deeply enough to draw blood, bruising the hell out of the other and spraining the wrist I landed on, I hit some of her other equipment on the way down. I
probably did more damage to myself than Cecily had. At least I could derive some pleasure from wrecking her fetish room while I cursed the pain and fought against passing out again.