Survival Games (17 page)

Mike sat
helplessly locked in the chair while Jessica lay unconscious on the floor. Frank
hadn’t killed him yet, but the promise, the threat he issued when he stormed
out of the room hung over him like a black cloud. His body still twitched from
the brief electric shock that punctuated the threat. His ears buzzed and he
slumped, his head tilted against the wood and his eyes closed. For a minute, he
wanted to remember, wanted to remember what his life had been like before he
was snatched out of it. Wanted to remember what she looked like without the
black and blue hazing. Wanted to remember her.

The chemistry
between them had always been intense from day one. He would walk into the room
and if she was there, it was as if all of the hair on his body stood on end.

He remembered
sitting next to her in a meeting one day and she had this short dress with her
legs crossed. He couldn’t help himself; he grazed his hand over her bare knee. She
took a slow deep breath, half smiled and looked sideways at him. That always
killed him. She recovered before anyone else in the meeting took notice.

After the meeting,
she leaned over to him and whispered, “You are so bad.” Smiling, she walked
away.

Later that same
week, in a separate meeting, she slipped her shoe off and ran her foot up his
calf under the table while he was trying to explain something to the group. He
ended up forgetting where he was in the explanation and had to start over. She
was highly amused by his reaction.

Any time they
physically touched, his entire body burned for her. Every now and then, he
would whisper something dirty, and she would give him the same deep breath,
half smile, sideways look that made him have to go splash his face with cold
water. Every now and then, she would add a very sexy lower lip bite as well,
which drove him completely nuts. It was a cat and mouse game that they played
well but unfortunately, they were both taken, so they never actually did any of
the things they insinuated.

The only time they
crossed the line was a memory that came back time and time again over the past
seven years. He thought about her more often than he should and that day was
always where his mind wandered to. They were alone in her car going to a
good-bye lunch for a co-worker and he pointed her the wrong way. She pulled
into a driveway to turn around. When she reached over his seat and looked over
her shoulder to back out, he planted a kiss on her. It was impulsive and caught
her completely off guard, so much so that she almost got in an accident.

After she
collected her bearings, she sent that sideways look at him with a small shake
of her head and a musical laugh that all but asked
Are you insane?

Lunch was a blur;
all he wanted to do was get back in the car with her. Pulling out of the
parking lot, he slid his hand up her skirt, grazing her stockings and smiling
at her flustered expression. She again made a wrong turn and let out a slight
laugh, shifting her gaze to him as she spun the car around. But she didn’t stop
his gentle exploration.

“You’re wet,” he
whispered and he was rewarded with her blooming cheeks and a slight nod. Her
eyes locked on the street before them but glazing over with a lust so strong he
felt the electrical connection in the car. “Take your stockings off.”

She laughed; her
eyebrows rose and her gaze flitted between him and the crowded road. “I’m not
Houdini.”

He continued to
rub her gently and took her right hand, placing it in his lap. A small sweet
sound escaped her lips and her hand slid the length of his hard shaft before
she pulled it away and grasped the steering wheel.

She looked at the
clock in the car and at the hotel they were about to pass and then at him. Uncertainty
filled her features.

“What do you want,
Jess?”

“Everything.” She
paused and looked at the road. “Nothing. I don’t know.”

They looked at
each other. The hotel passed by and so did the opportunity to act on their
attraction.

He opened his eyes
as she stirred on the floor. “Jess,” he whispered and closed his eyes again;
going back to the day she left.

She said she had a
great job opportunity closer to home but he always suspected he had a lot to do
with why she was leaving. It was close to a year after that car ride, and they
had continued playing the cat and mouse game the entire time. The heat between
them was still as intense as it was that day in the car, as the day they met.

She found him
between meetings, gave him a hug, saying goodbye. He trembled as he held her;
he still remembered her coconut shampoo and the way she felt in his arms. He
didn’t want her to go and he didn’t want her to see him lose it either. He told
her to keep in touch and walked away as quickly as possible. He could still
hear her sobbing as she told a good friend she had been fine until she said
goodbye to him.

He still
remembered how she made him feel when she was near him, when she laughed, when
she cried and when she said goodbye.

Mike opened his eyes,
looked down at her beaten and battered body, and began to cry because he didn’t
want to say goodbye to her ever again.

Mike looked up
when Frank entered. He walked slightly tilted, pain etched into his features
and a small iota of satisfaction gripped him, pushing away some of the
devastation wrapped around his heart.

“Don’t hurt her,”
he said, his voice raspy with emotion. “Please, don’t hurt her anymore.”

Frank gave him a
sinister smile. “Oh, what I’m going to do won’t hurt her, but I can’t say the
same for you.” Frank heaved Jessica over his shoulder and left the room.

A while later he
returned, walking a little straighter and whistling. He reached into his pocket
and pulled out both a cloth and vial, a devious smile playing on his lips and
Mike struggled against the shackles holding him firmly to the chair, ignoring
the flaring pain in his wrist. However, even with his thrashing, Frank was able
to get the cloth over his mouth and nose.

Blackness was
swift and complete.

Jessica woke to
the foul stench of smelling salts waved under her nose. Frank leaned in close
and as her eyes cleared up, she head-butted him before he could say a word. Stars
colored her vision and he leaned back holding his bloody nose, swearing.

“Bitch,” he began,
waving the salts under her nose again. “have I got a present for you.”

Frank flipped a
switch on the monitor next to her and she stared in horror as a thick metal
dildo slid between her legs, the modified vibrator slowly fucked her, sending
electrical currents through her lower half that were enhanced by strategically
placed conductor pads. The result—a thrill of pleasure through her body, much
like the electricity therapy she received on her back after an accident. Her
entire lower body tingled from it, especially where Frank had placed the
conductors. He turned the dial up so as the vibrator went in, the tingling
strengthened to levels dangerously close to pain and weakened as it slid out.

Frank stood,
watching her. “My ex-girlfriend loved that machine. She came and came and came
until she begged me to stop it. To say she was disappointed when we broke up is
an understatement.” He tilted his head. “I’ve always wondered just how long a
woman could last before she died of pleasure.” He tapped his lips, studying
her.

“No,” she
whispered in horror as her body began to respond.

“But I’ll have to
test that theory some other time.” Frank smiled and stepped away revealing Mike
behind him, suspended in air, chains shackled to his wrists and ankles, all
pulling in opposite directions.

A semi-conscious
moan escaped his lips and Frank crossed, waving the smelling salts under his
nose. He yanked his head away from the pungent odor, his eyes blinking open and
the moan turning to a groan of pain. The groan silenced as his gaze fell on
Jessica. Or more appropriately, the contraption Jessica was strapped to.

Frank stepped back
and smiled. “Wonderful little toy. It guarantees she will have orgasm after
orgasm whether she wants to or not.” He walked behind her, grabbed her breasts,
rolling the nipples around with his fingers and smiled up at Mike. “Much better
than Ty ever was,” he whispered in her ear and licked her face. She cringed. “And
every time she cums, those chains get shorter and shorter.” He paused to let
the situation sink in. “Basically, she’s going to tear you apart.”

“No!” Jessica
screamed as the fist orgasm gripped her. Mike cried out as the chains stretched
him farther in opposite directions. Frank laughed and stepped away.

She sobbed and
struggled against the bonds holding her in place but the more she struggled,
the more she slid into the horrid machine, enhancing the experience. With each
stroke, her body burned hotter and hotter, building to that plateau, building
her to the brink with exact science and there was nothing she could do, no
image she conjured stopped her body from responding. She screamed a high-pitched
tortured wail, and her body arched, the strength of the orgasm rippling through
her muscles and sending the needle into the zone that triggered the chains to
recede.

His cry filled the
room, announcing the agony gripping his wrists and ankles and every bone in
between.

She threw her head
back in an attempt to knock herself out and was met with a soft backing behind
her.

Frank laughed. “I
thought you might try that, so I padded the chair.”

“Please,” Jessica
gasped between sobs. “Please, I can’t, I can’t.” She put her head down willing
her body not to give in. It was futile as the third orgasm built.

“I can’t watch him
die. Please,” she sobbed.

Frank knelt down
next to her. “He is going to be torn apart because of you, and you have a front
row seat.”

“Jess,” Mike snapped
and she looked up. “THIS IS NOT YOUR FAULT!”

Her breath hitched
in and out of her chest, panting, sobbing, swearing—all as the heat between her
legs built to a stronger crest than before. Her throat raw from the flow of air
forced in and out, stung with the scream that barreled out of her mouth, her
body rigid and trembling with release, wetness spurted, lining the metal
vibrator, enhancing the current.

Mike’s scream
followed a loud popping sound. His shoulder pulled at a funny angle and his
head suddenly lolled on his neck, his eyes half closed and only the whites
showed. Frank opened another smelling salt under his nose and he came screaming
into consciousness.

“You bastard,
can’t you let him be, let him stay unconscious!” Jessica screamed, glaring at
Frank, her body bathed in sweat. The machine continued its slow steady
movement, her body betraying her, reacting, building with each electrical
crest.

Mike gasped in
pain. “Jess.”

Jessica nodded.

“Look at me,” he
managed to say.

She looked up at
him with her head low, concentrating and her face was hot, too hot. Holding her
breath against the burn in her lungs demanding air that she denied them. She
prayed it would work, prayed for darkness and it paid off. Blackness engulfed
her but the smelling salts brought her back.

“Look at me,” he
gasped again.

She did and tears
blurred her vision, spilling over the edges and cooling her hot skin.

“You are here,” he
gasped forcing himself to stay conscious long enough to say what he needed, “because
of me.” The words hissed out of his chest and he passed out again.

Jessica peaked,
crying “No, Mike, God NO!” The chains receded again. She watched as the skin at
his shoulders began to tear.

Frank waved the
smelling salts under his nose again, yanking him back into a world of agony. “Not...your...fault.”
Tears streamed down his face from both the physical and mental agony.

Frank flipped a
switch, turning the machine on high. It slid in and out at a frantic pace
sending electrical impulses through her body faster and stronger than before.

The chains pulled
him farther in different directions and Mike gagged, choking the scream, constricting
it to a low groan. For an instant, his eyes went wide, almost to the point
where she thought they might explode out of his skull and then the crack
shattered the room and his head lulled back. His right leg pulled at the same
odd angle as his shoulder. At the same time, the skin on his stomach stretched
too far and she watched in horror as it began to tear. Splitting and shooting
small bursts of blood beyond the torn skin.

Frank waved the
smelling salts under his nose again.

“Jess...love... you,”
he labored, his chest hitching with each difficult breath.

“I’m sorry.” She
kept repeating this over and over as the next release built up. She sobbed as
it racked her body.

Mike screamed and
his arm tore from the socket, ripping away from his body and dangling from the
chain. Blood pumped out of the wound in a torrent. His screams silenced to
whimpers and before silence finally descended and he let go of life, he sent
his last coherent thought her way.

This is not
your fault. Goodbye, Jessie.

Jessica heard him
and watched the light go out of his eyes.

She sobbed. The
next release tore his broken leg from his torso.

Frank smiled
watching orgasm after orgasm until Mike’s body was torn in half.

Gasping for air,
her eyes locked on the dead dangling form that once was Mike, hardly aware that
Frank turned off the machine and removed it from between her legs. Awareness
came when his fingers penetrated her. She lowered her eyes to his insane grin,
and then to his hand, following the lead of the vibrator and sliding in and out
of her in quick thrusts. She opened her mouth to tell him to get his hands off
her, but the bile was quicker, vomit spewed out of her lips, splashing his face
and shirt.

He shot away from
her swearing and spitting, wiping the bile off his face. Then he stepped in,
throwing a punch with his full weight behind it.

Jessica welcomed
the blackness when it overcame her.