There’s enough in here to make this experience close enough to torture for Harp without resorting to Viper’s traditional torture. But I don’t need any of those things. I just need the black skeletal mask in the mask display. I don’t know what the fuck Harp uses it for in his little sex and pleasure dungeon, but it’s going to suit my needs perfectly.
I put it on and turn around, and if I thought Harp was terrified before, he’s even more terrified now.
Good. Exactly what I was counting on.
Harp is more afraid of Pray than whatever his mind was conjuring earlier. So that just meant I had to insert Pray into the nightmare. And what better way to insert Pray into all this than to insert an image associated with his enforcer. Because when Viper acts, you can almost always trust that Pray is acting. As far as the criminal underworld is concerned, the two are almost one and the same. When Viper shows up, you’ve fucked up badly with Pray, and he’s ready to cut his losses.
“Where were the shipments going?” I ask, playing with the flogger again.
“I don’t know!”
I raise the flogger again and maybe Harp thinks it’s a gun or something because her seizes so violently Viper has to readjust his hold to keep him down.
“I don’t. I don’t know. I just check the location against what they give me. I don’t… I don’t memorize it.”
Now we’re getting somewhere. And it gives me something else to falsely accuse him of.
“But you didn’t last time. Did you? You changed the location so you could steal Pray’s merchandise. You know what happens to people who steal from Stephen Pray?”
“I didn’t. I swear. I swear I didn’t. You can check… You can check…”
I reach forward and grab Harp around his neck and squeeze until he gags.
As soon as I loosen my grip, he says, “Check the phone. The phone. I always keep it on me. So I can serve Pray at the drop of a dime. You can check.”
“Where’s the phone?”
He whimpers and I squeeze his neck again until he gags. When I loosen it this time, a cry rips through Harp, and for one horrifying moment, I think I’ve accidently taken this too far and killed him, but then I feel his hot come shooting onto my arm and see it all over his chest.
“You sick fuck,” I say, squeezing his neck again. “You like this. You won’t like what I do next.”
“No,” he manages as he begins to come down from his orgasm. “No… I…”
I loosen my grip and ask again, “Where’s. THE PHONE!”
I pull away and hit his front with the flogger, harder than before. And whether it’s the image of Viper’s mask, the pain from the flogger, or the drugs loosening his tongue, he says, “Over… Over there…”
His gaze leaves me, and both Viper and I follow it to his case of toys.