Sudden Death

backside of her jeans and squeezed. She moaned and he lost himself in her.

“Watching men die turns you on.” He rubbed her.

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am not.”

She was lying. He felt her excitement, the forbidden thrills that pain and control and being gods gave them. He felt the power, the power that had been denied him for months. He’d been nothing, he’d been an experiment, poked and prodded and subjected to pain so intense, so vivid, it made him beg to die.

“Kill me. Kill me. Please. God no. No more. Kill me now. Now, God. Don’t!” His plea came on jagged breaths as the man wearing black gloves slowly pushed the ultra-thin needle behind his testicles and made him scream so violently that his vocal cords became raw.

Months of screaming had damaged his larnyx to the point where Ethan could no longer speak without a rasp.

Now he had the power. The control. He would make them all pay. Those who’d left him to suffer. They should have killed him. Why didn’t they just shoot him?

“Ethan.” Her voice was low and he opened his eyes. He hadn’t realized he’d had her pinned so hard against the wall she couldn’t breathe. But she didn’t look scared, never her. Karin wasn’t scared of him.

She should be. Everyone should be.

“Admit it. You watched every needle go into his flesh. The poke. The slow pressure, his muscles tensing. The convulsions. The screams and panic and fear in his eyes.”

“Fear,” she breathed.

“Why aren’t you scared of me?” he asked.

Her blue eyes, only inches from his, stared at him. “Why aren’t you scared of me?”

“You don’t even know yourself.”

“You turn me on.”

“Maybe I do.” He shoved two fingers into her and she shuddered. His thumb pressed on her sensitive pressure point and she couldn’t control her reaction; her arms tightened around his neck as a flood poured through her onto his hand.

“Oh, God, that was too fast.”

“We’re not done, are we?”

She grinned and pushed him away from her. She stripped. He watched, oddly disconnected. His penis had a life of its own, as if it watched and enjoyed the show, but Ethan himself was above it all. Watching his body, her body, reacting to the sight and smell of sex, but without fully participating.

She removed his clothes and took his hard dick in her mouth.

Ten minutes later he was still rock hard and she was frustrated. “Ethan.”

“You know what to do.”

She frowned, but her eyes lit with excitement. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Lying bitch.

“If you want to help me, you need to do it. It’s the only way.” He was sweating and shaking. Was this like wanting heroin? Meth? The physical reaction was real. Too real. He needed her to do it. “Now, dammit. I need it.” He grabbed her by the neck, pushed her back up against the wall. “You want it.”

“I don’t.”

He slapped her. “You do. You need it as much as I do. You just won’t admit it. But I know you better than you know yourself. Your eyes betray you.” His lips touched her ear as he whispered, “Your body betrays you. You’re shaking as much as I am. I’m in withdrawal. You’re in ecstasy. Do it now, or I swear I’ll kill you.”

She pushed him away. “Don’t threaten me.” She opened his special black box. She was naked, had a curvy body, shapely legs, tight ass. Things he would have appreciated before. Things he would have enjoyed before.

Now he only craved one thing.

She turned toward him, the leather pouch in her hand. “Lie down.”

He obeyed and lay on the hard floor. She took two needles from his kit. He quivered. She straddled him and sank his dick deep inside her. She shuddered. “I hate this.”

She was a liar.

He could barely speak, but the words had to be said.

“You hate that you enjoy it.”

She held the two needles in front of him. Taunted him. He moaned. “Please. Please please please.”

She moved and gyrated on top of him, sending him into agony not from sex, but from the inability to release. But it was always about her. Her, her, her, her …

… she found the nerve on the side of his neck and put in one needle. The pain surged through his body as his nerves reacted to the invasion. He’d taught her well.

“Kill me,” he moaned. “God, kill me.”

She then inserted the second needle high on his inner thigh and he screamed, tears streaming from his eyes, sweat pouring off his body as his hips moved violently. The first time they’d done this, he’d bucked her off him, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t about her pleasure, it was about his pain. Now she anticipated it. Enjoyed it. Craved his agony so she could get off.

He exploded within her, the pain giving him the release he needed. He whimpered with humiliation and pulled out the needles himself. The pain subsided. A lesser man would be disabled for several minutes, but he’d had practice.

He flipped her over, holding her down by her neck.

“Don’t make me wait again.”

“I’m s-s-” she began.

He glared at her and for the first time saw that small glimmer of fear in the back of her eyes. He smiled, giddy, excited. She did fear him. She damn well should. He could kill her.

No no no! Ethan couldn’t kill Karin. He needed her. What would he do without her? He couldn’t survive. He wouldn’t be able to finish their plans. He kissed her lips. Her neck.

“I need you.” He started crying and hated himself for it.

“Don’t, baby. Don’t cry. I’ll take care of you.”

“Are you mocking me?” he asked.

“No, of course not!”

He didn’t believe her. “Don’t move.”

“What are you going to do?”

He took one of the needles that had been in his body, and without hesitation, inserted it just under her nipple. The pain that crossed her face delighted him. He could see why she became so excited watching the others suffer.

She couldn’t scream, she couldn’t think. He counted off the seconds. One. Two. Three.

Ten seconds would feel like hours. He knew. He’d been there. He’d been through far worse. If only she knew. If only she’d been there. To watch. Would she have gotten all hot and horny watching him suffer? Hearing him scream? Would she fuck the man with the black gloves as Ethan froze in pain?

Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Whoops. Too long.

He pulled out the needle. She rolled over and threw up on the wood floor.

“Bas-bastard.”

He stood, happy. Odd feeling, but there it was. Birds singing and a zip-a-dee-do-dah day. He laughed and dressed. “I’m hungry,” he said. “I’ll make dinner, okay? Your favorite.”

Karin watched Ethan as he walked to the kitchen, whistling. Jekyll and Hyde. Bastard. She’d shoot him in the back for what he’d done to her if she didn’t need him to finish teaching her the tools of his trade. She had watched him and had learned, but there was nothing like doing it herself. And he didn’t let her do it often. When she pushed too hard, he clammed up and it was almost impossible to get him to open up again.