I can’t anticipate a touch or a slap.
I can’t decipher if the feelings are enjoyable or perverted.
I can’t fight back.
I’m helpless.
The one place I never thought I’d be.
Hands start invading my body. Gripping my breasts. Spreading my legs. Dipping into my pussy, my asshole.
Make it stop.
Make it all go away.
Langston. Think about Langston. Think about what you are doing to him, for him. Think about all that you’ve lost. Think about who you are doing this for.
18
Langston
I’m dragged out of the room by my arms. I don’t know where I’m being taken, and I don’t care. My mind is on a loop of all things Liesel.
My brain has decided for the moment that Liesel’s snarky comments are my favorite thing about her, replaying her highlights.
“One touch and your cock is as hard as steel.”
“One kiss and I’m all you can think about.”
“This is war, killer.”
I smile at the last one.
A door opens in front of me, and the men turn us sideways so we can all fit through. Then, I’m being shoved into a tub. Warm water and bath salts sting my back, but I don’t even have the energy to hiss or protest.
“Stay in the water for at least a half-hour. It will help. To your left, there is a tray of food for you to eat and a remote to turn off the TV if you prefer not to watch. The next challenge starts in five minutes,” one of the men says.
And then they leave.
I tilt my head up. I’m in a bathroom, soaking in a large tub filled with bath salts that have started to soothe the ache on my back.
Why do I feel so weak? I don’t remember them doing anything that should make me feel this terrible.
I inhale and get a whiff of a burger.
I turn to my left, and I find a gourmet looking burger, a milkshake, fries, a pizza, a salad, and some cake looking thing. I want it all.
I grab the milkshake first, knowing I’ll be able to get those calories in with the least amount of effort. Then I can move to what my stomach is really craving: that damn burger.
I suck down the milkshake. Within seconds, my headache is gone, and my head clears.
I feel like I’ve been drugged, and the drugs are just starting to leave my system.
Maybe I was?
The screen in front of me starts flashing, and then I see the room I was just in. I cringe looking at it. I can’t watch whoever goes next.
I see Liesel walk in, followed by Beckett, and I know I won’t be able to tear my eyes away.
I watch them read the cards.
Please, just get out. I want to scream at them that it’s not worth it.
Beckett’s hand is on the back of her dress, and he’s unzipping it.
Motherfucker.
I told him not to touch her, not to fuck her.
The next thing I know, they are both naked, and I’m terrified. Why did they willingly get undressed?
Why?
WHY?
Then, the monster’s voice starts the challenge.
Liesel runs.
Why is she running?
Beckett chases her.
There is so much smoke initially; it makes it hard to see. My own eyes begin to water just thinking about how it feels to be in that room.
Then the smoke lessens as Beckett catches her.
She keeps fighting.
My Liesel.
I’m so sorry.
You are mine to play with. Mine to torture. Mine to kill.
You owe me penance, not him.
And yet, she’ll pay the price all the same unless she mutters her safe word.
Save yourself.
Save me.
This is torture watching her suffer. It might be worse than going through it myself.
I should turn the screen off. I can’t help her, and this will just hurt me. But I can’t leave her alone.
We may be enemies, but she’s my enemy—mine. No one else gets to touch her.
And then my heart stops. I wouldn’t be shocked if I died from a stroke or heart attack watching Beckett restrain her.
My chest rages with pain; my heart thumps hard then slow, fast and quiet. It doesn’t know what to do; it’s just yelling at me to get my ass out of the water and go save her.
But I can’t save her. Only she can save herself.
Beckett has her tied, her arms and legs spread in the center of the room.
She can handle this. She’s strong.
And then I see what comes next.
A gag around her mouth.
Earplugs.
A blindfold.
She must be going crazy inside being so sensory deprived.
I’m going to lose it.
My chest pounds for her. I don’t know what I feel for Liesel other than possessiveness, and anger at her fucking sins.
But this…
This is unthinkable for her to endure.
Except, she’s endured it before. And she came back. Why did she come back?
I look at Beckett—it’s obvious what he’s required to do next, but he’s just standing there still as a statue, unsure. Does he touch her and endure my wrath, or does he say his safe word and leave her vulnerable?
He looks to the door.
A moment later, three men have entered.
They look similar to the men who beat me.
Don’t fucking touch her!
But of course, that’s what they are there for—to ravish her. To make her feel out of control and so overwhelmed that she can’t think straight.
To many other people, this might be their wildest fantasy—tied up, blindfolded, and fucked senseless by four hot men.
To Liesel, this is her greatest nightmare. I’ve seen her fuck. She has to be in complete control. I don’t blame her. I’m much the same way, which is one of the many reasons why we’d never work together.
The men start touching her, groping her, and Beckett follows suit. He runs his hand down the curve of her waist and then grips her hip while a man penetrates her with his finger.
I can’t watch.
I can’t not watch.
I run out of the tub and go to the door. Water drips
