Page 16 of Most Of All

“We have two here...”

“No shit, Sherlock,” I interrupt as I close the gap between me and the two idiots. “Where’s the old man?” I say, shooting them a questioning glance. “He said… He said that there was no need for him to be here today, that we are to relay the information back to him.” The smaller one replies with an almost childlike voice. “Yes. We have to stay with these men.” The taller one chimes in.

“All right then, I hope you have the stomach for it,” I say unimpressed.

Quickly disengaging from the interaction, I proceed to the stainless-steel table to begin preparations. As I prepare to put on the gloves and overalls, I quickly glance over to Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum. They have remained stationary, like what the fuck, move. “Come on lads, put your big boy pants on and let's get to work.”

Once we are fully equipped, I ask the dim-witted duo to knock out the men and line them up against the wall, just under the coat hanger. One at a time, using rope, I bind their hands. With as much pressure as possible, I take both their arms, and force them backwards. Slowly, edging them upwards, I bind them to one of the hangers, as tight as it can. They’re not actually hanging off the hanger, but they are secured tightly. Being in this position will cause them excruciating pain, especially the longer they are in it, it might also dislocate some shoulders, which is a plus.

“Sir.” I hear from a voice behind me.

I eagerly turn to greet him, “Tony, just in time as always, did you get everything?”

“Yes sir, of course,” he replies, setting down the box. “Some of it was a little harder to get than others, but it's all here.”

“Perfect.”

“Do you need anything else?”

“No, not right now, I'm going to be here with these two idiots for the next few hours, so take the rest of the day off.”

“Sir,” he replies with a nod, as he turns on his heels and heads out.

“What's all this for?” Thing one shouts out holding up a sponge from the box like he’s disgusted by it.

“Torture, you idiot.” Thing two says, slapping him at the back of head, causing him to drop the sponge. “Did you think we were going to take a bath, you Dumb Fuck.”

I swallow my disgust, and roll my eyes at them both, before picking up the box to return to the table. As I’m sorting through the items, I can hear the two dumbos behind me whispering and arguing, Fuck! This is going to be a long day. “Make yourself useful and throw a couple of buckets of water over our guests, wake them up.” I announce loudly over my shoulder, not bothering to look around.

Relief washes over me, as they both step out of the room, allowing me to finally breathe freely. Deeply inhaling, I take a moment to feel the tension ease from my shoulders.

Once they return with the water, I gather up the few items I need and head back over to our guests, waiting to the side as the men throw the water over them. When the men are completely soaked and alert, I place myself in front, setting my items down. I chuckle to myself as I take hold of the branding tool and blow the torch, playfully shaking the items in front of the men. “Who's ready to talk?” No response. “If that's how it’s going to be.”

A sly smirk plays on my lips as I ignite the blow torch, its bright flame bursting to life with a fierce hiss that fills the air with heat and anticipation. “Pick one and strip them from the waist down,” I say, as I peer over at the tallest idiot.

I switch my gaze to the other, “You, get me a cup of coffee,” he hesitates for a second but thinks better of it and turns to leave.

Using the blow torch, I heat up the branding tool. Eagerly edging closer to the man that is now silently sobbing to himself, muttering words under his breath, a prayer, or some shit.

Dramatically dropping the blow torch, I firmly grip the man by his hair, yanking it back hard by the roots. “Last chance,” I whisper in a dark tone. But before I even give him a chance to speak, I shove the branding tool forward, landing it straight on his cock, and this fucker screams.

Still keeping up with my theatrics, I drop the branding tool. Cautiously bending down to where his clothes lay, I retrieve one of his socks, and stuff it into his mouth. With a breathless sigh, I gaze down on him with disgust. “Now. Now. Nobody likes a screamer.”

Unhesitatingly, I shift my focus to the second man, the scared look in his eyes is present for just a moment, and for a split second, I feel sorry for him, but I quickly shake it off. I learned the hard way not to let my emotions show, and I’m not going down that road again. With a wicked grin plastered on my face I approach him, slapping him lightly across the face. “That, there,” I point to the man I just tortured. “Worse is coming for you, and there's no getting out of this, sunshine,” I inform him, pinching his cheek like he is a child. “Are you going to talk, or do I need to continue?” Frantically, he begins to nod.

“I’ll tell you anything,” he cries, “Just...p...please...don’t.” Tears cascade down his cheeks, while droplets of snot gather at the tip of his nose, his face is full of despair, each sob shaking his frame as he struggles to regain his composure.

“Soppy fucker,” I mutter as I retrieve the branding tool and blow torch, quickly returning back to the table with them. “And where’s this idiot with my coffee?” I shout loudly.

“Here, here it is.” A voice from behind me yells. “The tires on the van were flat, so I had to walk to the coffee shop.”

“What, all of them?” The other one says, confused.

“Nah, just two, I don't know what the fuck happened,” he grumbles, shrugging his shoulders.

“Shit happens,” I say, while laughing away in my own head at the dopey fucks. “One of them wants to talk,” I say, snatching my coffee. “So, roll up your sleeves and get ready, because I would like to get out of here at some point today.”

It’s unbelievable, and if I didn’t see for myself, I wouldn’t have believed it, but the dumb fuckers start rolling up their sleeves. Exhausted, I drag a gloved hand down my face and look at them with a true sense of disgust. “Metaphorically, you pair of twats.”

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