Page 31 of Bathed in Blood

She cuts me off, jerking to face me. My hand tightens on the handle of my gun as I quickly move it away, flicking the safety on. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

My hand itches with the need to touch her as I holster my gun. Since I’ve decided to no longer deny myself, my hand snaps out, jerking her mask up enough to show her pretty, full lips, my other one capturing the back of her neck. “Never pegged you as a brat.”

“Never pegged you as a bitch,” she offers. Oh, if sad Lana was gorgeous, pissed off Lana is enough to make me come in my pants like a fucking teenager. She flinches as I run my fingers across her lips, gently. It only barely dampens my erection to know she expected me to hurt her. Doesn’t surprise me boys like the Sullivan brothers couldn’t handle a little name calling.

“Lana, we need to speak after the stream.” She opens her mouth to cut me off, but I insert my thumb instead, making her gag as I push it to the back of her throat. “You don’t have to like it, but you’ll listen. I am notthem; my family is notthem. This doesn’t have to hurt.”

She bites down, hard, and I only barely bite back a groan as I very painfully extract my fingers from her teeth, leaving a line of spit still connecting us. “It already does.”

Her words hit me like a tire iron straight to the skull.

“Sir, two minutes before we’re live.” The sound comes over the speaker in the viewing room. With that, the wide doors pop open, letting in the screams that were previously contained behind the door.

“What’s my theme?” she whispers, pulling away, fixing her mask before facing the door.

I can’t help myself as I drag my hand through her hair, the fingers teasing the shin of her back, making her shudder. “Dealer's choice for your first stream back.”

She heads into the room, and it takes everything I have to let the doors close behind her. My eyes snap to the large screens as her beautiful, delicate frame fills them. Lana stands still, barely breathing as she awaits her cue. The audio to the room clicks on just as it's given, and she dips into the deep curtsy, flashing a cute little wave to the main camera.

My cock throbs, and my fucking chest hurts as I slump into a chair. My hand is on the master controls, just in case anything goes wrong.

I’m a bastard.

15

Scream

Coming Undone By Korn

Christian

I block out everything but Lana as she makes a show of picking out the tools she intends for the man strapped to the wall. I even almost smile as she pretends to get frustrated by his begging. Her heeled foot stomps against the ground, her red waves flicking over her shoulder as she shushes him. Long, slender fingers tap at the chin of her mask. Immediately, I regret not providing her with gloves. The idea of any part of her actually touching another man makes my leg bob with the effort to stay seated.

“God, oh fucking God! Please just listen, listen to me!” the man pleads, not really saying anything of substance. His entire body trembles as a prominent wet stain grows on the crouch of his boxers, boxers that stayed on because no way in hell am I letting his cock out near her, even if it is just for her to mutilate it.

Lana turns, brandishing the tool of her choice to the camera.

A Heretic’s Fork.

Her fingers slide over the leather collar attached to the bi-pronged ends, forming needle sharp points, and she skips over to the man as he thrashes wildly. My hands clench against the armrests as he lashes out, spitting on her mask.

“Fucking bitch! Get the fuck back, you fucking crazy bitch!”

The princess’ hands are steady as she wrenches his head forward, tsking at his rabid attempts to bite her. She’s safe, entirely in my domain. Fully fitted in metal restraints, the man was screened for any disease, an instant suppression system should something go wrong. Mostly, I’m here, behind doors I can open if she should require me. It doesn’t stop me from vibrating with rage every time the cuck’s teeth snap towards her exposed arms as she fastens the collar around his thick neck. He fights valiantly as she wrenches his head back up, ensuring the upper forked prongs are situated tightly underneath his chin, the opposite pressing into his chest. If he slips, moves just a little too much, it’ll-

The man cries out in pain as he tries to look down, sending the upper and lower prongs into his flesh, not enough to kill him but enough to fucking hurt. My heart thunders as she fiddles with the torso strap, one we’ve never bothered with before, but I wasn’t taking risks today, not with her.

My hand slams on the intercom without my permission. “Do not unstrap—"

She does. His body sags a little lower, that strap having supported a lot of his weight. Fucking hell.

He screams, the prongs again digging into him on either side, a garbled mess of words spilling from his mouth as blood coats his chest, unable to open his mouth to fully cry, beg, or bite.

Luca’s eyes meet mine in an irritated glance through the viewing windows into the tech room beside this one. He throws his hands up before refocusing on the screens in front of him.The viewers don’t like interference, but I couldn’t give less of a fuck.

I’m pacing now as Lana repeats the process, letting him drop further as she releases his upper thigh restraints. The man bellows, the prods now permanently embedded in the tender underside if his jaw. His eyes roll back in his head. Absently, I recognize an entry request to the room popping up on the hub, approaching it without even glancing who was requesting it on the security feed. My knuckles pop from the force of my clenched fists as I stare at Lana, her chest heaving in short spasms, her hands shaking. I can hear her rapid breaths through the mic.

“Sir, there’s been a perimeter breach I wanted to make you aware of,” Kallen states at my back.

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