Page 173 of Bake the Town Red

Johnathan squeals. Shakes. Moves his leg in his feeble attempt to get from under Tyler.

Doesn’t puke yet, though. What a disappointment.

The shaking starts. No big surprise there. It’s cold and we stripped him down to his briefs. I hope the humiliation will enhance his experience with us.

“Little savage.” Tyler twists his foot on top of Johnathan’s. The tip of his boot goes left, right, left, right.Crack, crunch, crack, crunch.“Want to start working on the ice cream scoop?”

The way he says it. So Tyler-like. Demanding yet not ordering. Dominating without being a controlling dick.

Fuck, I love this man. Would do anything for him.

Anything other than give him permission to touch another woman. Not like he’d ask. Ty would never.

“Coming right up, lover.”

As I whip around to the table, a fresh sound of cracking starts. I glance over my shoulder, giggling as I watch Tyler crushing Johnathan’s other foot.

My man hums “The Final Zepp” by Charlie Clouser, as in the theme music forSaw. From him, it sounds as if it were a Christmas carol. Jolly. Creepy.

The chills it gives me reach to the hot spot between my thighs. I shiver.

Then I join him, humming along to the tune as I grab the metal ice cream scoop. The stove in this room is already on. Red, yellow, and blue flames flicker ominously. Expecting me.

“Ladies, do your thing.”

The flames do indeed listen. They turn the metal round edge of the scoop a shade darker. Tyler sharpened it this week while I was serving the last of my customers.

He had to. Otherwise, how would we be able to slice through Johnathan’s skin? Or dig the scoop into his flesh?

Exactly. We’d have failed.

“Dahlia.” Tyler’s hands are at my waist. His mask grazes mine where our cheeks touch. His body heat bleeds into mine. “You ready?”

His hard cock makes me wonder what kind ofreadyhe’s talking about.

“Ready to hurt him,” he answers my unspoken question.

Although his words mean one thing, Tyler’s hand on my breast suggests another. That’s as far as his sexy suggestion goes, though. Tyler spins us both to face Johnathan, guiding me forward until we hover over our target.

Johnathan doesn’t stop quivering and shaking. Tears brim in his eyes. Snot leaks from his nose. When I look down at his feet, I marvel at Tyler’s handiwork.

Each broken toe rests on the black tarp beneath it at a different angle. They’ve gone limp, crooked. The tops of his feet aren’t any better. On the left one, a bone sticks out.

“You’ve been busy, boyfriend.” I can’t stop myself. Can’t help but push my ass back and grind myself on Tyler’s groin. “My turn.”

“It is.” Tyler nudges me forward. “Do your worst, beautiful.”

I do.

Johnathan’s skin bends when I dip the scoop into his bicep.

Then it breaks.

Blood drips from his arm. There’s a tiny bit of resistance, but I’m not a quitter. Not me. I keep going, ignoring the flex of Johnathan’s biceps. Dig deeper. Giggle louder.

“Good girl.” Tyler pinches my nipple over my apron. “I’m getting so hard watching you. So fucking hard, baby.”

Another surge of white, gooey snot runs down Johnathan’s nose and over the duct tape. His useless pleas, nothing but incoherent mumbles, will forever remain lodged down his throat.

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