Page 11 of H Is for Hardcore

Michelle gestured to the large man whose fist Benjamin’s face had already met.

“Just to put it out of your mind, yes, Frank likes to hurt people. Isn’t that right, Frank?”

“Yes, Ms. Michelle.”

“I believe he enjoys it even more than I do.”

Benjamin’s heart pounded like an old Chevy with timing issues as the wooden frame he was strapped to was raised by half a dozen young women who wore nothing more than silk masks.

“There are also rewards,” Michelle told him as she stepped forward, her right hand grazing up from his navel to his left nipple. “Rewards with the pain.” She pulled on the nipple and he gulped.

“That’s how you work, isn’t it, Mr. Friar? Pain and reward? Control and domination? A man like you doesn’t get where he is without knowing those things.”

She released the nipple and slapped him hard across the face. “Life is about power, yes? When you get to your position in life, there is little else.”

Benjamin wanted to see her hurting, his cock in her ass and her begging for him to stop.

“Anger is good. It gets the blood pumping,” she said as the whip lashed out again, striking him across his softening belly. “But why are you angry, Mr. Friar?”

The whip lashed out again and he clenched his teeth.

“I’ll tell you why you’re angry. You’re angry because I’m in control.”

“No. I’m angry because I fell for this silliness. Angry with myself.”

The whip came down again, harder, scorching his chest. He arched his back and groaned. Michelle then dropped the whip and grabbed his testicles with her left hand, the other hand expertly tying a red satin sash around them.

“I told you, Mr. Friar, you do not speak here. This isn’t your board-room, nor is it your comfy little house with your perfect wife and perfect kids. This isn’t even your secretary taking it in the ass because she wants a raise.”

“How do you know these things?” he asked, ignoring Michelle’s threats.

She sighed, reaching down to the floor. He couldn’t see what she was doing between his legs, but he heard the strike of the lighter and smelt the candle. “A question here, a question there. Surely you know it’s a good idea to research potential clients. You just don’t seem to know when it’s a good idea to shut up.”

Benjamin couldn’t remember ever screaming as hard as he did when the wax dripped onto his bound testicles. He screamed until he couldn’t scream any more, straining against his bonds, pulling at the silk that tied him to wood.

“You are nothing here, Mr. Friar. Nothing to me. In reality, you are nothing at all to anyone. You don’t really have any power, Mr. Friar. None. I could kill you here, right now, and what would happen? Do you think they’d ever even find the body after Frank had finished with it?”

Two of the silk-masked young girls stepped forward, simple wooden clothespins in their hands. As Michelle withdrew the candle, they affixed a pin to each nipple.

“Do you know what true power is?”

She nodded and the girls placed two more. Not nearly as serious as the pain from the wax, but enough to make Benjamin flinch. “Pain, Mr. Friar. Pain is the only power worth exploiting.”

Again a nod and again another pair of clothespins. He finally cried out on the sixth set, the burning and stretching of the skin around his nipples too much to take. Michelle only laughed.

“Please…” he whimpered.

“Please more?” Michelle said, igniting a cigarette with the same lighter with which she’d lit the candle. “Please more, ma’am.”

Another of the six girls kneeled behind him, and he could feel the spreading of his asscheeks and the wet sound of lubricant on flesh. He gasped as the plug, thin pointed and wide based, was inserted.

Michelle leaned over him and stroked his face. “You see, there can be pleasure, Mr. Friar. Pleasure in pain. You like a cock in your ass, don’t you?”

“No,” Benjamin said, squirming against the uncomfortable pressure in his ass, the pins on his nipples, “I don’t. Please…let me go.”

Michelle knelt and removed the plug, but replaced it with her finger. She probed gently, pushing toward his prostate. “I’m sure, Mr. Friar, if you’d had a cock up there, at some point, you might understand. You like the other way around, no?”

Amid all the pain, the humiliation, and the fear, something stirred, as if the gentle pushing of her finger had reached beyond just his ass. His cock began to rise slowly, and the smile that spread across Michelle’s face was pleasing. Her tongue darted out and lapped at the edge of his growing erection.

---