A Hand in Hell

Chapter 4

"Come on, kitty," I trilled as I tugged lightly at the leather leash. The girl clung to the wooden frame of the basement door, her knuckles white with the tightness of her grip. "The sooner you come, the sooner we can get this over with," I said pleasantly, and gave a final, harsh jerk. Her fingers slipped from the door frame, and she staggered down the first few steps, but I caught her before she could fall.

"There's a good girl," I chirped, smirking down at her. She struggled to free herself from my arms, shoving at me and hitting me weakly, but I just tightened my hold around her until she went still, her face twisted in anger and pain. "Maybe you will understand how pointless it is to fight me one day," I remarked as I lifted her easily into my arms and started down the remaining stairs. "You seem to be following pretty well so far." I smirked down at her, and her eyes widened just a bit more to display her fear as we stopped beside the glinting steel of the operating table. "So, are you ready to tell me all about your closest friends and family yet?" She shook her head stiffly but kept her lips tightly pressed together, and I shrugged, my cruel smile never fading. "Suit yourself, baby girl. This way'll be more fun for me, anyway."

I dropped her none too gently onto the table, and a metallic bang rang hollowly through the room, followed instantly by the sounds of her renewed struggle. She kicked at me and twisted onto her front, trying to crawl to the edge of the table, but I grabbed her shoulders and flipped her onto her back with another hollow thud. She continued to fight against me, kicking and punching and even trying to bite my arms, but I merely chuckled and lay my body across hers to limit her movements.

"Come, now, girl," I purred. "We just talked about this. You know that fighting me will do no good." But she let out a shriek and redoubled her struggles, and I sighed, disappointed. "Fine," I mumbled, barely able to hear my own voice beneath her screams. "We'll just do this the hard way, I suppose."

My body still across hers, I forced one of her wrists into its shackle and secured it there, my movements deft from the months I'd spent doing this exact action time and time again. Her other wrist was next, and I ignored the sharp sting of her nails digging into my forearm as I pinned her hand down and locked the cuff around her wrist.

The deed done, I straightened, pulling my torso from hers. Her legs still flailed and kicked, and I sighed as I watched them, not looking forward to the task ahead. "You really should calm down," I said wryly, turning my gaze to her terrified face. She'd stopped screaming by now, but her mouth was still open, as if a shriek was just waiting to burst free at any moment, and I eyed her warily. "The second you kick me is the second I tear your still-beating heart from your chest and keep you alive to watch and feel every bit of it." Her kicking slowed to a weak thrashing, then her weak thrashing slowed until she was still, looking up at me with scorn in her bright eyes. I laughed lightly. "I didn't expect it to be quite that easy," I told her as I walked to the end of the table and took hold of her feet. "Maybe you really are catching on." She said nothing, merely continuing to glare at me as I secured her ankles in their shackles, smiling back at her all the while. "I feel like I should remind you that we don't have to do this, you know," I said as I started toward the head of the table, my fingertips trailing lightly along her legs as I passed. "As much as I would love to get into the real torture and get you screaming in that way that I so adore, there is an easier way to end this little tiff of ours." My fingers found the soft cloth of the shorts she'd borrowed from me, and she began to shake her head violently as I slid my hand further upward, beneath her shirt. Such warm skin, so smooth and tender and deliciously human…

"I won't tell you," she said, panic to her voice. The anger was gone from her eyes, and I sighed in contentment. "I won't ever tell you who they are."

"My dear, we've been over this before," I murmured, savoring the softness of her flesh as my fingers trailed up, up, up… "I will torture you until you tell me, and if you choose not to tell me, even when you're moments from death, I will find every bit of information I need out on my own — and you know I can do it." My fingers reached the edge of her bra, one of the only garments she was wearing that actually belonged to her, and a quick pushed the cup up and over her breast. The warm flesh continued to tremble long after the motion-induced jiggle had stopped — her terror personified. I could almost taste it on the air, now, that delectable, sweet sweatiness of raw fear, and a monstrous lust filled me as I cupped her breast. The shirt still just barely hid it from my view, and I tortured myself by leaving it that way, by leaving it just out of reach. "It's entirely in your hands, what happens to you now," I breathed, my gaze drifting to her face even as I pinched her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. Tears shone in her eyes again, and her lip quivered violently. "Choose wisely."