Wallbanger (18 page)

On silent feet, Sumi padded to the restroom,
gently knocked on the door.

“Gigi?”

No response, and she turned the handle to
peek in.

“Gigi. Are you all right?”

Hands gripping the sink, the other woman
stared into the mirror. She appeared to be lost, her gaze not fixed
on anything in particular. “Gigi?”

Sumi took a quick glance around before
stepping inside. “Here, let me help.” She wet a towel and wiped the
woman’s face. Then she slung a long brown arm over her own delicate
shoulders and eased into the hallway.

Gigi stumbled along beside her. “Just
so…ti—”

Sceneing took a lot out of a submissive, the
physical and mental and emotional strain often too much to handle.
“I know,” Sumi assured. “It happens to me sometimes after too.
Don’t worry. I’m here. We’ll just let you rest a minute.”

A dozen slow paces later, she opened the door
to a bedroom and helped Gigi inside.

* * * *

Lying on her side when she heard the twin
footsteps, the puppet hurried to correct the error. In her penitent
pose before his office, Zlata’s heart thundered in her chest as
Sacha approached. She didn’t have to see his expressionless face to
know he was in a mood. His earlier rage was bad enough, but now,
even his gait seemed heavier, angrier than usual. She tensed just
as he passed, expecting him to strike her again, but he kept
walking.

A guard flanked him, the two talking in
conspiratorial tones. She caught the last string of the
conversation. “…a while and kill him. Meet me in the dungeon. Bring
his bitch.”

Quick footfalls going back the way they’d
come let her know the protector had departed to carry out his
order. Zlata rocked her head a bit to the left to see Sacha
continuing down the hall. A glance to the right showed the henchman
had already disappeared around a corner.

Now’s your chance.
She was glad Sumi
wasn’t around. Sumi was a puppet—had been conditioned for the life.
But Zlata…Zlata wasn’t a puppet at all. She was something else
entirely.

She hadn’t been able to get to Gigi, but it
was only a slight alteration; she could still make this scheme
happen. Her breathing increased, coming out in harsh rasps that
shook her frail body. Another look to the left—Sacha was still
there, his back to her, proceeding slowly down the long corridor.
His inebriated state would make it even easier. But could she
really do this?

Courage.

He was going to the Dungeon—she’d be going
the same way.

A fortifying breath and she pushed herself
from the ground. Didn’t even let the numbness in her legs subside
before she padded down the hall after him, ready to carry out the
plan.

11

The mechanical sound of a lift brought
Kizzie’s awareness back to the present, and she felt herself being
hefted from the ground. A rope tugged at each wrist until they were
above her head; another raised her left leg so the toes pointed
toward the ceiling, the right hanging free so it dangled just above
the floor. The harsh scent of glue assaulted her nostrils and she
tried to get a breath through her mouth. It was taped shut.

Her eyes opened, vision blurry, mind fuzzy,
and she fought to recall what had happened—Xander whipping her,
Xander confusing her, Xander giving her water. Xander, Xander,
Xander. Like hitting the slots in Bizarro-world’s perverse version
of Vegas. That triple X meant she’d lost.

In the dim light Kizzie blinked several
times, trying to focus on the other person in the room. All she
could see was black hair and rope.

“Hello, Gigi.” A wicked grin replaced Sumi’s
bright smile, and her eyes didn’t hold the same animated innocence
they had before. Even her voice was different, rougher. She slapped
Kizzie’s face. “Wake up now. There’s not a lot of time left and the
Kukol´nik will want his new puppet alert.”

Taking in her surroundings, Kizzie noticed
she was in some sort of underground chamber. Air warmish and damp;
walls and ceiling were roughened bedrock, and at intervals around
the space sconces provided the weak light source. A dizzying array
of torture devices were stationed about the large room and in the
three directions she could see were entrances to the cavern. She
assumed there was a fourth at her back. Where they led
specifically, she didn’t know. All she understood for sure was that
they went out, and that was where she needed to get.

She looked down to find the corset and thong
gone, her body completely exposed.
Lovely.

Kizzie wriggled her lips to loosen the duct
tape. The deranged doll assisted by ripping it away roughly.

“That better?”

She coughed, ignoring the pain in her joints
from her limbs being restrained. Again. With only the three points
bearing the full load of her weight, it felt as though one side was
being slowly ripped in half.

Sumi grabbed hold of the bound leg and walked
in a tight circle, the three lengths of cord in the rings above
twisting about themselves. She continued to turn, winding Kizzie
tighter and tighter, until she finally came to a stop, holding her
suspended in place.

“The last puppet I bound this way,” Sumi
shook her head sadly, “didn’t last long.” Angled a bit, she
motioned to the tools on a stone slab not far from the platform
they were on. “The Master likes his knives, and the puppet just
couldn’t keep still.”

She let Kizzie go, the ropes untwisting and
sending her spinning, slowly at first, then faster and faster until
they had unwound, caught, and started twining in the other
direction. Kizzie thought she’d be sick, her system begging her to
toss whatever it had ingested.

“Master will be so pleased with his new toy.
He liked the way you danced up there. I could tell. Until your
Master stepped in. The Kukol´nik did
not
like that.” She
shook her head firmly. “But now he can play with you as long as he
likes. Nope, won’t miss me one bit….”

Kizzie spun back and forth, fighting vertigo,
until the ropes finally tired of the torque and steadied her again.
She said nothing, just glared at the girl and tried to figure a way
out of the bindings; lifted her head to study the ties. French
bowline knots around her limbs anchor hitched to heavy-duty metal
rings connected to the blocks of wood fashioned to look like a
cross. An airplane control—what puppeteers used to make the
puppet’s extremities move.
At least his crazy is
thorough…
.

“Won’t help,” Sumi said, unknowingly
interrupting Kizzie’s snark. “I’m very good with suspension. Only
way out those is if I untie you myself, and I don’t plan to do
that.”

A wicked smile spread Kizzie’s lips. Not for
any particular reason other than to confuse the girl. As it stood,
she was screwed. Xander was off in Sacha’s office trying to access
his computer, something she’d remember to be pissed about later. He
should have told her. And Marchande was secured safely in the Range
Rover outside. Next time, she decided, he’d have to wear the
corset. Of course, that meant she’d have to get her ass out of this
contraption to make sure there’d
be
a next time. The image
of Phil in hooker heels was a bright spot in an otherwise
emotionally dreary evening, and she laughed.

“Something funny?” Sumi frowned, cocked her
head.

“You don’t know me so well.” Affecting
bravado seemed like a good route, even in her groggy state and
without a stitch of clothing on. “Once I do get out of this…I’m
going to kill you.”

That was a promise.

It was Sumi’s turn to laugh, the same tinkle
she’d done before, only this time a bit louder. “Sounds nice. But
what you don’t know is you’re already dead. Whatever Sacha leaves
of you the explosion will finish.” She produced a key—the one
Xander slid into his breast pocket, Kizzie noted—and fitted it into
the lock at Kizzie’s throat. “Too pretty a bobble for a
corpse.”

The collar slithered from its place and Sumi
wrapped it around the ropes on her body, secured the lock. Then she
removed the tag from her own neck and tied it around Kizzie’s.

“There. Now you’re a
real
puppet!” she
enthused, pulling a reverse-Pinocchio. Hands free, she found
Kizzie’s breasts, squeezed the orbs. “It’s such a shame, really.
You’re a very pretty puppet, Gigi. Watching the way the whip made
you come, over and over…. Mmmm. Made me want to—” She crouched and
trailed her tongue up Kizzie’s extended leg, stopping just at the
apex of her thigh. She took in a deep breath and grazed the skin
with her teeth. “I think we would have had a lot of fun
together.”

Standing again, Sumi’s mouth closed on one
nipple, and Kizzie tried to twist away, revulsion rippling through
her. The girl held her firmly, surprisingly strong for someone her
size, and her lips feathered over Kizzie’s collarbone, her neck,
until she met her mouth. She forced her tongue inside, lapping with
slow strokes, while her fingers rubbed insistently over Kizzie’s
spread pussy.

She whimpered, urging Sumi closer. Off the
heels of the other, the stimulus was too much, and she wended her
free leg about the tiny waist. One small hand cupped her face, and
once she had the girl locked against her, Kizzie bit down hard on
the flesh invading her mouth; harder until the girl shrieked and
squealed.

Panicked, Sumi reached up to yank Kizzie’s
head forward, increasing the strain in her arms.

But she didn’t let go. She reconciled with
the fact her limbs would snap from her body and directed all of her
attention toward severing the puppet’s tongue at the root. The more
Sumi pulled, the more force Kizzie applied until she tasted a
coppery trickle; harder, until her right shoulder slipped from the
socket and her mouth opened in pain. The device swung her slowly
back and forth, adding to the discomfort.

Sumi stumbled away, her own mouth full of
bloody saliva. “Fuckin’ bitch!” The back of her hand connected with
Kizzie’s cheek, and she chopped her repeatedly with a half fist in
her side. Around her swelling tongue she managed, “I hope you die
shlow.”

Aiming for Kizzie’s face, she spat a red glob
but couldn’t quit muster the force needed, the fluid making a
pitiful dive from her lips and landing on the floor. Another attack
was in the works when Sacha stumbled into the chamber, eyes wild
and glittering.

“What are you doing?” Sumi didn’t respond,
and Sacha descended on her in a matter of seconds. He gripped her
hair and snapped her head back hard. “Answer me!”

“I—”

He pushed her away, stalked toward Kizzie.
“Leave.”

Sumi stumbled but regained her balance,
rushing to the exit. At the last moment she turned to Kizzie again,
hand over her injured mouth. Kizzie stared at her with hardened
eyes. She’d see the girl again, and when she did, she’d kill her
without hesitating.

A little finger wave from the doll and she
disappeared into the opaque hole leaving Kizzie all alone with the
Puppet Master.

* * * *

Thirty meters above ground in the darkened
office, Xander sat behind Sacha’s desk, waiting for the software on
the jump drive he’d concealed in his watch to finish cracking the
man’s computer password. Apart from the steady ticking of a clock,
all was quiet in the large space. He checked his phone, noted it
was after one in the morning, and continued to will the machine to
work faster.

After the tense separation in the punishment
room, he strolled around the party, peeking in at some of the
action, trying to forget what had happened while keeping an eye on
Sacha and his movements. Sokoviev had disappeared shortly after
Kizzie’s lashing, ran off to get higher, if that was possible, and
inflict some serious damage on one of his puppets no doubt. And
that the one girl—
Zlata?
—wasn’t at her usual location when
he’d crept into the office made him think this was all a bit too
easy.

There were only two things Xander ever
trusted in life—Phil’s gut and his own. That’s why, when he first
came into the office, he pulled back on the large painting on the
wall behind Sacha’s desk. As suspected, a safe was hidden there,
the digital combination lock initially giving him pause. Too many
options to choose from and he didn’t have the tools to get in
it.

But then he tried the handle and again
thanked Sacha’s arrogance. The man hadn’t even bothered to lock
it.

A quick rifle through the box revealed
nothing but cash. Lots of cash, but nothing else—no passport, no
documents, no flash drive. Nothing that would tell him anything
about Harvey.

Which meant he was down to checking the man’s
computer. And while he waited to crack into the machine, Xander’s
gut told him something else was wrong. He didn’t know what, but as
soon as this finished he needed to get to Kizzie and the hell
out.

Yet even that would prove problematic. His
insubordinate subordinate had dismissed him and run off. Where she
was now was anyone’s guess. He only hoped she kept her hands to
herself so she wouldn’t be punished again.

The cell phone vibrated in his hand.
“Yeah.”

“Where are you?”

“Office,” Xander whispered, spine stiffening.
“Problem?”

“Your girl’s mobile.”

“What?” That didn’t make sense. The doors
were locked and guarded, and even if she’d managed to get out
through the front…. “You see her?”

“Nope. Moving away from me, toward the rear
wall of the compound. The cameras covering that area are
blind.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “There’s
only one way onto the lot. There’s no way she could scale the wall
at the back. Are you sure?”

“It’s moving, X. Didn’t believe it myself for
a minute. Thought it was a malfunction, but…”

The password screen on the computer
dissolved, the many files on the system popping up. He ignored
them, navigated through until he’d opened a command screen; entered
the prompt. A new bit of software began downloading from the jump
drive.