I let them attack.
They run at me like they are afraid I’ll put up a fight. It takes everything in me to not knock them both out, to not resist.
I close my eyes, but that only intensifies their movements in my head. I try meditating as they come for me. I think they are going to tie me up, but they stop just short. That’s when I feel the cracking of belts on my back.
The familiar feeling of my dad’s belt on me creeps back into my muscle memory. I feel everything just like I did as a child.
They aren’t hitting me that hard. The pain is doable. The problem is the haunting memories playing in my head like a movie.
My dad’s voice.
His hand grabbing me.
His belt hitting me.
I open my eyes, hoping the memories will fade.
I jolt forward as a belt hits my back. This one was harder than the previous ones, but still not enough to make my eyes water, my pulse to race, or my body to send signals to my brain to fight back.
The two women start approaching me, and I remember the other part of my challenge.
I have to come.
I glance down, but I don’t have to to know that I am zero percent turned on. Coming right now seems almost impossible. Even if both women start sucking and licking and giving me the best strip show of my life, it won’t be enough.
I should give up now, rather than be tortured like this.
But his voice.
Knowing who he is…
I have to win. I don’t have a choice.
I welcome the women in as I collapse to my knees with my cock in my hand. I try to stroke my cock like I did only hours ago in Liesel’s bathroom.
My body doesn’t respond. My cock is limp in my hands.
“We can help you out there,” one of the women says as they reach me. They are wearing lingerie. One has a black, lace bra and thong complete with a garter. The other woman is wearing a white flowy number.
I suppose they are supposed to fulfill whatever my fantasies are. Whether I like a bad girl or an angel—I have both.
Their hands start roaming over my chest as the men continue to hit my back over and over with the belts. Not exactly inflicting pain, but delivering a constant thread of nightmares.
I try to focus on the women.
Their touch.
Their smell.
Their bodies.
I can’t feel any of it.
I’m back in the house I grew up in. My father is beating me because he ran out of beer.
The back door opens just as my father is about to hit me again.
Liesel is standing there, except she’s no longer a child; she’s the woman I know.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Saving you.” She smiles.
And then, she’s running to me.
She scoops me up from the floor and carries me across the street to her couch.
Finally, I can breathe. My father can’t hurt me here. Liesel’s protecting me.
I half hiccup, half sob.
“Shh, it’s okay. There is nothing to fear, not anymore. I’m here.”
I nod.
I’m safe because of her.
Liesel climbs on top of me.
“What are you doing?”
“Loving you. We both need love. This is the only way.”
The only way to what?
But then she’s kissing me. Her long blonde hair is spilling onto my cheeks and brushing against my neck as she kisses me. It’s everything I wanted it to be and more.
So much more. It pushes out all the pain until all I feel is her.
And then I feel her hand grip my cock.
My eyes roll back. I’ve never been touched like this before.
It’s heaven. It’s everything.
It’s…
17
Liesel
I stifle my gasp by biting my lip and swallowing it down until it burns my throat.
I’m sitting in a room with six other participants watching Langston fall to the floor.
He passed out.
I look over at Beckett out of the corner of my eye, trying to gauge his reaction. But he’s just as good at hiding his emotions as I am.
Beckett doesn’t so much as speak.
I glance back at the large screen in front of us. The men whip him one more time after he collapses, and I want to barrel through the wall and rip their throats out.
Finally, they stop after they realize he’s passed out.
The women step back.
I don’t know what happened.
Watching him broke me more than whatever I will face next ever could.
I would’ve called out my safe word if it had a chance at stopping his madness. I don’t know how they know our greatest fears and weaknesses, but they always find them here and exploit them. They did the last time I was here too.
Get up.
Get the fuck up, killer!
I watch, but Langston doesn’t get up. Does that mean he’s disqualified?
“Mr. Pearce will be advanced to the next round,” the voice says. A voice that always sends chills down my spine.
How will Langston advance?
I stare at Langston more closely, and that’s when I see the drop of cum on the floor.
Technically, he came.
A part of me wishes he had lost now. The rest of me wants him to win so he can kick everyone involved in this organization’s ass.
But I need the money. I need to win.
Langston is the only person standing between me and victory. Right now, all I can do is beg him to wake up. To show me he’s still alive—that this didn’t ruin him forever like it did me.
Finally, a couple of men walk over to him. Langston’s back is covered in red welts, and there are a few drops of blood, but it doesn’t look like they did any permanent damage to his back.
They hook their arms under his and lift him up.
I lean forward in my chair as I stare at a man I thought could never be broken.
Please, don’t be broken. Please, please, please.
Langston is slumped in their arms, only being held up because of the men’s strength, not his own.
