22
"Anything I want?" the man said.
"Within reason," David said. "We don't want her permanently injured or
disfigured, of course. But within reason..."
"She's very beautiful," the man said, looking at Lisa.
"Yes," David said.
"And very young."
"Yes."
"And very frightened." He was not complaining.
"Yes."
"And," the man said. "Very expensive."
"And worth it," David said.
"I am very wealthy," the man said. "I can get any number of beautiful
young women."
"But not women to whom you can do anything you want. Not without
trouble."
"No."
"Do we have a deal?"
"Anything?" the man said again.
"Anything," David said. "Within reason."
"She will have to be gagged," the man said.
"Why not?" David said.
"I want her gagged."
"Of course," David said.
"You understand," the man said, "it is not necessary. I have a special
room, completely soundproofed. It is not that she might attract attention by
making noise. That's not it."
"All right," David said.
"It's the way they look," the man said. "I like to see it, do you
understand? I like to see them gagged. It excites me."
"I understand," David said.
"Their mouths, their lovely mouths, stopped up," the man said. "Unable
to make a sound. Unable to say a word. They try to talk, try to beg, but they
can't. They can't. Then, later, they try to scream, to cry out; their eyes pop
and their throats strain and they struggle and fight to scream out their agony,
their suffering, but nothing comes out. Only whimpers, tiny little mewling
sounds, and their bodies--" He broke off.
"David..." Lisa said faintly.
"Be quiet," David said.
The man was breathing harder. "I want to gag her myself," he said.
"Of course," David said.
"David, please..." Lisa said.
David slapped her across the face.
"Good," the man said. "Discipline. Good." His eyes were glazed.
"Anything?" he said again. "Anything I want?"
"As I said," David said. "Within reason."
"Reason. Yes." The man paused. "Come with me," he said.
The house was large and ornate. The man led them to a small elevator,
which took them down into the basement. There he unlocked a thick black door
with an old-fashioned key and ushered them inside. It was a classic torture
chamber, complete with stone walls. Manacles hung from the walls and the
ceiling. There were whips and branding irons on display. A small cage stood in
one corner, a huge St. Andrew's cross in another. In the center of the room was
an object that looked like a large wooden bed, and which, on closer inspection,
turned out to be a stretching device, or rack.
The man led them to this object and touched it reverently, running his
hands over the smooth wood. "My pride and joy," he said softly. "It cost me a
fortune. An authentic, working rack. See how beautiful it is! You see, the
victim lies flat. Her arms are pulled over her head; her wrists, strapped
together, are held by these chains here at the top. Her legs, spread apart, are
held by straps, here and here. And then--" he indicated a winch at the top of
the device-- "this is turned. Tightening the chains, you see. Stretching the
body. Stretching it painfully. Agonizingly. Unbearably. Until the victim is
pulled so taut that she is unable even to writhe in her agony. Until every bone,
every tendon, every muscle in her body stands out in relief against that tightly
pulled flesh. Until she feels that one more turn of the winch--one more
notch--will literally tear her apart, ripping her flesh, sundering limb from
limb..."
"Oh my god," Lisa breathed in a quivering voice. "David... for god's
sake..."
"Why, what's the matter, Lisa?" David said. "It really sounds quite
exiting. I'm looking forward to seeing it myself."
The trembling girl made a bleak, despairing noise.
"Of course," David said to the man, "there must be no permanent damage.
Pain and suffering to any extent you please, but no actual sundering or anything
like that."
The man's breathing was quite loud now. "And then--" he said, "we can
enjoy her body. That, you see, that is the beauty of this type of instrument,
that's why it's so much better than the old-fashioned rack where the victim is
stretched over a wheel. How can you possess a woman who is bound to one of
those?"
"Not very comfortably, I should think," David murmured.
"But with this..." The man's eyes were gleaming as he again caressed the
polished wood. "Ah, with this, the victim is beautifully available, beautifully
accessible. One simply mounts her as she lies there on her back, legs spread
wide, helpless in her agony. Mounts her taut, pain-wracked, straining body. And
takes her. Takes her and takes her. Plundering that defenseless treasure between
her legs. Looking into her eyes, her frantic, horror-filled eyes as one's weight
presses down on her, as each thrust adds unspeakably to her terrible torment.
Listening to the beautifully muted, stifled, desperate sounds that emerge from
her gagged mouth as she tries to scream and howl and beg for mercy. As one takes
her and takes her and takes her..."
Lisa fainted.
Neither of them made a move to help her. The man's voice had gotten
thick, his words tumbling out until they became hard to understand. He paused
for breath. "You think I'm crazy," he said to David.
"Yes," David said. "But aren't we all? I take it we have a deal."
"Yes," the man said.
"You understand that I stay with her all the time."
"Yes. That's fine. When she's there--" He caressed the rack. "When she's
naked and gagged and stretched in agony--I can have her, and then I'll watch
while you have her. And then Simmons can have her."
"Simmons?"
"My butler. I always let him participate in these things. He enjoys it
nearly as much as I do. It keeps him happy."
"We'll have to charge extra for Simmons," David said.
The man sighed. "Keeping good help is so expensive these days..."
