CHAPTER 167: The Virgin and the Masters, Part 60

CHAPTER 167: The Virgin and the Masters, Part 60
CHARLOTTE

Propelled back inside by my captors to the large central room, a gun is trained on me, and my arms gripped at either side, before they release me, to stand in the centre of the room. Klempner nods at one of his hoods. “Get the other one.”

Beth is all but dragged into the room. I don’t think she can stand without support, and released, she drops to her hands and knees, sobbing and shaking.

It’s up to me then...

How much time can I buy?

Klempner glances down at Beth and seems to dismiss her. She’s not doing anything interesting; not entertaining him.

Trying not to be obvious about it, I glance around the windows, but all I see is darkness.

Where are they?

Klempner stands close to me; too close, crowding me. I scent him, his breath, his sweat. His smile is cold; his pupils, wide.

Oh, he’s enjoying this.

And I’m supposed to be intimidated...

Fuck that...

“So, what’s next?” I demand, keeping my voice loud. “You rape me? Gangbang me?  You think I can’t handle that?”

Klempner’s eyes widen, but he says nothing.

“You think I don’t know about men like you? Remember where I grew up. You know a lot about me, so you know that. You don’t scare me.”

“No? Let’s see what we can do about it...” His voice cool, almost indifferent, Klempner glances sideways, either way. “Hold her.”

My arms are seized again, outstretched, pulled taut...

Don’t show fear...

Klempner knots fingers into the front of my blouse, tearing it apart, stripping it off me...

Master, where are you...?

My bra follows, simply tugged apart and ripped away.

“You think I can’t handle you lot?” I scream at them. “Eight of you? Go on. Try me. ‘Cause you don’t fuckin’ frighten me...”

“Strip her,” says Klempner. From behind, my skirt is ripped away, my panties torn apart. “Whores belong on their knees. Down you go…” Reaching out, he backhands me across the face, knocking me to the floor.

“Okay, boys. Showtime.” And they close in on me.

Master...



MICHAEL

James peers through the window, then quickly pulls back, cursing quietly. “Jeez… She’s a fucking lunatic sometimes.”

“What’s she doing?” I ask.

“Winding them up, drawing them onto her. I think she’s enjoying it.”

Through the window, a voice shrieks, “You fucking bastards! You think you can do me? Let’s see if you’re up to it...”

I quickly look through, followed by Richard. She’s being held down, kneeling between them, and she’s screeching like a banshee. Klempner, side-on to us, along with most of his men, looks down at her as though she’s mad... I don’t blame him. Even Beth, who has clearly been crying, is staring, unbelieving, at my red-haired demon-child.

“You’re not seriously suggesting that she’s getting off on this?”

“Look at her,” says James. “At her face, her eyes.”

I look in at her again. He’s right. She’s wild, eyes like saucers, face flushed. But this time, as I flash a look through the window, she sees me, and immediately looks away, drawing all eyes to her.

She looks utterly insane, running on adrenaline and fear, but she’s not. She’s playing the game, giving us the time, and the opportunity, to do what is needed...

Standing again, she paces up and down, light-footed, naked, almost dancing, red hair flying, as she points, and gestures, and raves at them. “C’mon… Big brave men. All of you with guns, on one little girl? You think you can fuck me? Let’s see what you’re really made of...”

“She’s like a fucking wild animal,” mutters Haswell.

James nods, brows raised. “That’s our Charlotte.”

Klempner brings his hand, open-palmed, across her face, hard, and she goes down again, dropping to the floor. But she doesn’t cower, just stays there on all fours, glaring up at him, fire in her eyes, panting.

Richard winces. “What’s her pain tolerance like?”

James tilts his head. “In that mood, sky-fuckin-high.”

“She doesn’t scare at all?”

“Oh, she scares. It just doesn’t stop her.”

“We need to get in there now,” I say.

“Yes, but let’s take the time to do this right. There’s more of them than us and they’re armed.”

“You cold-blooded bastard,” I hiss. “Are you going to let them just get away with that?”

James, with a touch of steel in his eyes, that arrogance that says he will always be in charge, says “She’s playing for time. Let’s not waste her efforts. And no, when we get the women out of there, I’m going to blow the bastard’s head off, and enjoy doing it. She’s spent her life being hunted, abused. This ends here, tonight.” He locks eyes with Haswell, who nods.

He’s right of course. And, he may be my closest friend, but even I know that James has a dangerous side.

Her ‘Dark Angel’ she called him?

Just so.

“What do we do? One’s accounted for. It’s seven against three.”

“Five against three,” murmurs James.

“Five? Why five?”

He nods towards the window again. “She’s got her hands around the balls of one, and another’s about to shove his cock between her teeth. What d’you think will happen to them when we burst in?”

Despite myself, I cringe inside. Richard flinches, staring upwards.

“You have a point,” I concede.

“Stay there a minute,” says James. “I’m going to see if there’s a rear entrance. Klempner’s got his back to a door there. If I can get behind him...”

He vanishes into the darkness. Richard takes another quick look inside and chuckles. “I don’t believe it... She’s got them, quite literally with their trousers down and they’ve put their guns to one side.”

“Mmmm… yes. James is going to knock her sideways when he gets his hands on her, but she’s done what she set out to do...”

“As always,” murmurs Richard.