Minty (7 page)

“Its borrowed.” She refused to look at him or be drawn into any conversation. She just twirled the stem of the short fluted glass, wondering what to do next.

“I need to call a cab and leave.” She said this low but she knew he heard her.

He sat quietly for a long time. Finally he nodded. “Rex, I need to borrow the car.”

Rex looked up, grinned and tossed the car keys across in the air.

Alex snagged them and stood up.

This was not what she wanted. “No, I can call a taxi.”

He was already standing, the keys in one fist.

Minty still hesitated. Finally Alex reached in, took her upper arm and pulled her out. Looking over at Angela he said louder. “What kind of a friend would I be, sending you home in a cab.” He winked at Angela. Rex grinned broadly and Angela smiled a thank you, wrapping her arm into Rex’s arm.

Panic turned Minty’s empty stomach around the small amount of liquor. She thought she was going to lose it right there. He hurried her out of the room, into the cold air. It had turned into night outside. She leaned against the nearest car as he released her arm, letting the dry heaves pull at her.

* * * *

Alex walked away and flipped his phone. “Rad, don’t hate me, I have her and I am going to keep her for only one night. I will get the blood. I promise I will return her, relatively unharmed.”

He listened as Rad breathed into the phone. “Alex, this is your dark side, right?”

“I know, but I will control it. I will give some soft, I promise. She is different. But I swear, one night will get her out of my system.”

Again the deep breathing on the other end. “Yeah, I said that about Misty.”

“Hey brother, I am different, you most of all know that. I couldn’t have a full time partner. I know Misty is going to ream me a new one as it is. I don’t want to make it worse. I just couldn’t do this without telling you. I gotta’ go.” He flipped the phone, going back to her. “Come on, let me take you home.”

He could tell she did not want this. She shook her head
no,
but she was in the car. They were moving down the busy streets. Why could she not refuse him? He looked over and touched her mind again. At the restaurant, he’d reached out with his mind to try to influence her to want to slide out of the booth and go with him. Nothing. So she might be like Misty, because Misty couldn’t be influenced by nightwalkers. It was strange—he could talk her into performing in a submissive role, but he could not influence her.

If he couldn’t influence, maybe a strong pleasant suggestion would work. He knew she was exhausted. He suggested she was asleep, a deep sleep that wouldn’t even be disturbed by dreams. It worked because she really wanted to sleep. He had an erection that was trying to act on its own. It was what he wanted. The unfulfilled erection was sweet painful punishment that would have a reward eventually.

He parked behind her apartment and carried her up the back steps. He used his mind to unlock and push her doors open all the way to her bedroom. He placed her on the couch, not the bed. He started preparing. He moved everything out of the bedroom but the bed and one table. On the table he placed one of his knives with a shallow bowl he brought from the kitchen. He took the blankets off the bed and put them over the two windows to ensure total black out. He brought her in and laid her down on the bed. He closed both the bedroom door and the bathroom door and removed the door handles.

The room was pitch black, so dark there was nothing to see, unless you were a nightwalker. He willed the door to open as he went into the living room. He took off his jacket and shirt. He removed his ring and took off his shoes and socks. Walking back into the room with only his pants on, he willed the door shut, locking it.

Chapter Eight

He leaned against the door and took a deep breath, anticipating, letting her slowly wake up. He waited inside her, feeling everything
—
this was what his dark side craved. He ate the fear, the terror that he could pull out of others. Sometimes it was from torturing a foe before dusting them, sometimes it was in an S&M position where as a Dom he had a female in leather straps, which they had agreed to. But what they hadn’t agreed to was when he went into their mind, found out what their real fears were. Sometimes fire, sometimes cuts, sometimes rats or worms or people watching. When it was over he wiped the memory from them, but he never could clean up his own dirty dark. It just craved more. It craved something it could sense from this beautiful submissive lying helpless on the bed. His erection was painful.

There had been only two times that he had run into a true submissive that he didn’t want. One just liked to be humiliated, but what had poured out of her was the fact that she was ashamed of the whole process and couldn’t stop, so he ate it. After using her several times and finally bored, he left her. One was a male, who was revolted to be used by another male, but was so submissive that he couldn’t say no. Alex had humiliated him over and over, forcing him to suck him in public, to suck him while other males fucked his rectum, forcing him to wear a large uncomfortable rectum plug for hours as he went to work and tried to act normal among his co-workers. Outwardly the man had pleaded for Alex to continue, professing his love, inwardly he loathed what he had become. Alex left him, a punishment to him, but what he didn’t realize was, it was also a blessing.

Once Alex had been called out to join in a fight, the fighting had settled him down, and he had turned into a more gentle Dom for years, spending time at the S&M bars, sitting sometimes just at the bar drinking whiskey and drinking the emotions. He quit inflicting pain as he found ways to enjoy the fear.

He knew he shouldn’t be near her, but her smell had two tastes. One was the elusive unusual one of flowers intermixed with spice, the other one was of the bittersweet weed
—
it was pain and fear.

* * * *

Minty rolled over on her side, curled up, wondering if the trip to the restaurant had just been a dream. Slowly she came awake, knowing she had clothes on. She knew she was on a bed. She opened her eyes, which was when she screamed.

“Do not scream.”

There was someone here with her in the dark. She froze, her throat closed.
No, no. Don’t hurt me, don’t beat my legs. I won’t scream. Where am I? Oh God it is dark, please turn on the lights, it is dark.

“Move to the edge of the bed and stand up.”

Oh please, yes, just don’t hurt me. There is more that I can do in the dark. If I do what he wants, he won’t hurt me. Where is he?
All her muscles were tight, nothing worked right.

“Stand up.”

The command was not said loud, but she was shaking. She had to obey. God she was such a coward.
Do what he wants.
She wasn’t sure how close the edge was, but she moved her arm out, felt the end of the mattress. She slid sideways, shaking, pleading, convincing herself to do as ordered to avoid pain. She twisted so that she could set her feet on the floor to stand.

“Take off your shoes.”

She was shaking in the dark, the terrible dark. Where was he? Wait, he had given her an order, she needed to do what he wanted so the pain wouldn’t begin. She raised one leg, pulling off the shoe. She let it drop, then reversed. Standing on the bare foot, she pulled off the other shoe. She stood, waiting for his orders, afraid of the dark, afraid of the pain, yet wanting something.

“Remove your jeans.” He had moved.

The voice was from somewhere different
—
she was going to faint. She needed to escape, she needed light, the light from the tacky restroom. She twisted, shaking, begging inside, but was careful not to say anything.

“I do not like giving you orders twice. I will have to punish you if you make me repeat my orders.”

Oh no, no, no, no.
She started fighting with the button and zipper.
Please, I need to listen, to do what he says, whatever, no, please, no pain.
Her hands were shaking, but she got the jeans undone, sliding them down to step out of them. She heard an intake of breath as if someone was smelling something. Where had she heard that before?

She couldn’t think, the blackness was blocking out all rational thought. Where was she? The floor felt cold on her feet. She felt it was right that she should be uncomfortable. If she was uncomfortable maybe he wouldn’t hit her legs and stomach. She was so frightened her heart was trying to break through her ribs. She rubbed her palms against her thighs.

“I want you to obey me. I want you to walk five steps forward. You will find a table.”

She turned her head from side to side. She was shaking so much she wasn’t sure if she could walk. She no longer could tell where the voice was coming from. But she didn’t want the pain from strikes. She could take other types of pain.
No hitting, please no hitting.
She slid one foot forward after other. She forgot to count because it was so dark and she was lost. There was nothing to touch, then she squeaked as her stomach touched the edge of the table.

She was trembling so much that she thought that her legs weren’t going to hold her up.

“Don’t fall down, I do not give you permission to go to the floor yet.” The voice was closer. It came out as a rasp.

She threw her head back, feeling tears leak out as she begged for no strikes. She could not breathe, someone was behind her. She couldn’t move because there was the table. If it was him, he would give her pain, but perhaps no hitting.
No, please no
—
she had to do something, something to please him. No, she had to do whatever he wanted, whatever to avoid pain.

“Spread your legs.”

What, no, she couldn’t. What did he mean? She shook but she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what he wanted. She was so frightened. She wasn’t going to obey him. He was going to hurt her.
Please no, no pain.

“Yes, sweet one, pain just once to teach you.” He had her hand and he pulled it out and she could only stand, feeling his hot body behind her.

No, no, resist
—
no, don’t resist. Please, I will do anything, anything.
No words came out of her mouth but she trembled all through her body. She felt the pain as a knife was drawn across her palm, splitting the skin into the flesh in the most tender areas, sending flashes of sharp pain to her brain.

“Do not close your hand.”

Was the command whispered in her ear? She couldn’t close her fingers, but the tendrils of pain pulled her muscles. She tightened her butt and thighs. This was what she feared from the dark, this was the beginning. She felt her hand being pulled up and over to the man behind her and he did a very strange thing…he licked at the cut and she heard him moan.

He stepped back from her. “Will you now obey me?” He was still so close, she felt his breath move her hair.

She stammered but felt she had to answer. “Yes.” It was a whisper.

“Yes, Master, is the correct answer.” Again the movement of her hair as the breath whispered over her.

She sucked in air. “Yes, Master.” She would call him anything if he didn’t hurt her again.

“Ask me to hurt you.”

Oh God no, please no.
She turned her head, turning against the table, knowing she was facing him. She was shaking, pleading inside.

“Get down on your knees and ask me to hurt you.” His voice was so low and each word reached inside her body, like a piano cord, causing a tremble.

She couldn’t do this, not in the dark, she was screaming in her head,
no, no.
But she had to. She slowly sank down onto her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she buried them in the soft layers of the blouse. At first her voice wouldn’t work but within the shouts of her mind she forced it to work. She knew she had to say it the right way.
No pain, please, no more pain. Please just a little light.
“Please hurt me.” She shuddered, waiting for the pain.

“No.” It was a whisper. “This room is mine. What happens is my will, not yours. You don’t get what you want, you get what I want. You don’t get to ask for hurt. Now you may stand. Turn back around because I am going to tell you what I want.”

She brushed against him as she got up. He roughly swung her around until she felt the table again. No pain, but the dark always brought pain, what could it mean? She felt him pushing around her as if he was moving things
—
could he see when she couldn’t?

“Lean over the table. Extend your arms until you feel the other side and hang on.”

She didn’t understand but she wanted to please him.
No, no, please, no more pain, no more dark
—
but that something else that she secretly desired. She thought about the paintings in the museum. She placed her palms on the table, reaching across. She stretched as far as she could, found the edge and gripped the ledge with both hands. She was glad to have something to hang onto. She rested her cheek on the wood, smelling lemon polish as she took a breath.

“I didn’t give you permission to relax.”