Torture III

Katherine’s eyes fluttered open weakly. The dull ache of her hands awoke her. He skin prickled from the cold, she still wore a black slip nightgown. Startled that it was cold and wet feeling, her heart began to beat quickly.
Her vision was blurring, but Katherine could see that she was no longer in the comfort of her bed. By the gray stone brick and t he unnerving cold, Katherine realized it as an old basement.
She was shackled to the wall; her hands had fallen asleep above her head, the tingling bearable however. Her feet rested on the damp floor, just enough to keep her shoulders from dislocating. She closed her eyes trying to remember how she had gotten here. Her thoughts were distracted by the soft dripping of water and the scent of her own blood. Her left wrist ached and by the feeling had been gashed open….or bitten.
As she hung with her eyes closed she heard the dull strike of a clock. One…two…three…four times. 4 am. The grandfather clock jump started her mind; the memories flooding back.
Katherine moved restlessly underneath the covers, unsure of what had awoken her. The alarm clock read: 3:00 am. A cold shiver ran down her spine. 3:00 am, the Devil’s hour, how alluring. The moon illuminated faintly through the curtains but it took time for her eyes to adjust to the darkness nonetheless.
Katherine sat up in bed looking around the room, her heart telling her something was not right.Looming against the closet door stood a silhouette of a man. His arms were crossed over his chest, his stature calm and even mildly aggressive.
Katherine felt her throat close u against her scream, a strangled gasp escaping. All she could see clearly were his eyes shining in the moonlight. His actions were catlike as he suddenly was upon Katherine, slamming her backward, knocking the wind out of her lungs. His hands at her throat, his hands caressing her body. His mouth against her throat, against her mouth, then his teeth sinking into her wrist as she fought against him angrily. Her knee contacted hard between his legs. A yowl of pain burst from him as his hands tightened around her throat, choking the air out of her. The last thing Katherine saw were his eyes staring into hers.
The cellar closing and the lock turning brought Katherine back to her current situation. She kept her eyes closed, listening to the low humming. She knew who it belonged to and it fed her rage. Her eyes snapped open.
“PORTER!” she growled, hearing his humming stop abruptly.
Porter stepped down the stone steps, his eyes wide with surprise, but upon seeing Katherine a grin came across his face.
“You shouldn’t be awake yet, babe.”
Katherine struggled not to scream. Smug little bastard had attacked her and was now calling her pet names. What the Hell was he up to?
“I just thought,” Porter continued seeming to know her thoughts, “that it should be my turn to have fun with YOU.” He wasn’t making any sense to Katherine.
“I’ve never touched you Porter, one doesn’t play these games with members of the coven.” she whispered, her voice low with anger. He smiled.
“Aww. Baby, don’t be mad.” Porter said with a mocking tone, his eyes bright with selfish pride. He was dressed in dark blue jeans and a black t-shirt, his dark blonde hair and brown eyes accentuating his features. A beautiful man, but a troublemaker eager to break rules. And he had Katherine. Everyone wanted Katherine.
“Now, where should we start?” he asked, walking toward Katherine. He stood directly in front of her, his cologne intoxicating her senses, knowing she wouldn’t kick him and risk dislocating her shoulders with serious damage.
“Don’t touch me…” she said staring coldly into his eyes. Porter bent and kissed her. Katherine moved her head away.
“Porter, stop damnit.” she said restraining her rage. His hand traveled up her legs stopping at the hem of her short nightgown. With his tongue, he licked at the blood running across her throat up from her wrist.
“You’re just TOO good.” Porter whispered like a compliment. He gently kissed her throat, feeling her pulse still thumping slowly. She wasn’t afraid of him. He pressed his tongue against her pulse knowing he could coax her into submission once her rage subsided.
“Stop…”she whispered her throat moving with the words. Katherine was so infuriated yet his touch seemed to confuse her thoughts. His tongue continued to dance across her throat, his teeth nibbling sensuously. She felt incredibly vulnerable, not something she was used to, but it turned her on to know that Porter was touching her.
One of his hands slid under the nightgown, his fingers grazing her thighs as his tongue continued to hypnotize her sense, sparking her desires. Katherine’s body felt on fire, his mouth pressed against hers, wet with her own blood. His tongue slid against her lips begging entry to her mouth. She obliged, their tongues caressing and dancing erotically. His fingers crawled up her thighs seeking the warmth of her womanhood.
“No underwear…that’s sexy.” Porter growled with a sexual tone, his thumb running over her clit. His thumb moved in slow hard circles, feeling her strain against her shackles. Katherine’s body felt entirely consumed in his touch, it was the only thing she could think about. Porter’s incisors pricked the flesh of her throat, teasing her ruthlessly.
He smiled aware he was gaining control; total control.
With two fingers, he rubbed her, finally pushing deep into her velvety womanhood, moist and desiring his touch. As his fingers thrust deeper and rougher, his incisors sunk into her throat causing her to moan with ecstasy. He sucked greedily, the thrusts of his fingers growing faster as he consumed her blood. Porter’s hand was wet with her juices, blood dripping from his chin. He put his fingers to his mouth, tasting her exotic flavor.
Realizing he had control, Porter unlocked her, letting Katherine fall to the floor weak from both sexual exhaustion and blood loss.He stepped over her body, making his way to a black cabinet.
Porter opened the door bringing out a long black whip. He pulled the whip, flexing its leather. He pulled a leather wrist guard onto his right hand.
“Don’t want to strain a wrist.” he said into the silence. He popped the whip twice hearing it crack loudly against the silence that continued. Porter turned to a stereo with enormous speakers and pushed power. Heavy metal-post core music erupted from the speakers. Shaking his head, he messed with Cd's finally playing ‘Spit’ by the band Kittie.
“They suit you well, babe.” he grinned turning up the volume, before striking Katherine cruelly across the back. Katherine bared the slash. Her back stung mildly but continued to worsen as he struck four more times. With each strike of the leather against her skin, Katherine felt the heat of red welts forming. She never screamed until he maliciously brought the whip across her wounded throat, more blood spilling as her body contorted with pain.
His smile was full of satisfaction as her screams echoed and became lost with the earsplitting music. Her breathing was erratic and labored as each hit became harder and repetitive.
"Porter, I swear to you, you will get this back ten-fold." she shouted, but he only laughed.
"I love it when you say my name, baby." Porter called over the music. "Gets me going..."
He grabbed Katherine by the hair pulling her toward him in an angry yet loving kiss. She pushed away from him and spit in his face knowing he would get angry and do something stupid.Lost in the moment, Porter stepped forward striking her brutally with the back of his hand.
Katherine was enraged inside, but too weak to fight back as she wanted. He began to thrash at Katherine blindly, angry at her for refusing him. Bringing the whip high above his head, Porter brought it down forcefully. Katherine saw the whip dropping and with anger fueling her, grabbed it from his grasp.
“That will be enough…” she growled struggling for air. His forehead furrowed with anger and he slapped her again. Katherine fell backward and lay very still on her stomach. Porter turned and killed the music, staring at Katherine in silence.
Concern filled him and rushed upstairs, but only to get away.
The clock struck six am, slowly sounding each hour fifteen minutes later. Katherine stirred on the floor, pushing herself up on the palms of her hands. She lifted her body up and slowly got to her feet. A spell of dizziness overwhelmed her; she swayed for a moment then gradually made her way up the stairs.
Katherine crossed a long hardwood floored hallway. She heard the whispering and occasional laughter of others throughout the mansion…the coven was awake. A man stepped into the corridor and jumped with surprise. His eyes widened and he quickly rushed toward Katherine.
“I’m fine, Damian. I’ll take care of it.” she whispered soothingly although her voice hoarse from screaming. His eyes had narrowed and his expression flickered from concern into infuriated. Katherine smiled at him nonetheless, now that it seemed to be insanely hilarious.
“Porter will get what’s coming to him, I assure you.” Katherine said with satisfaction.
Oh, if he only could comprehend the thoughts racing through her mind. Damian continued to stare as Katherine passed him, went up the stairs toward her room bloody footprints marking her path.
She stepped into the shower, stripping off the drenched nightgown and cut the water on. Katherine stifled a piercing scream as the water burned her wounds and then finally surpassed.
Giving herself ten minutes, she washed completely, dressed in black slacks and a black tank top, bandaged her neck and went downstairs before grabbing a briefcase beside the nightstand.
Damian looked up from a newspaper as she quickly rushed through the room. He smiled with quiet amusement as she downed a wine glass of a thick red liquid and came around the table finally, planting a kiss on his cheek before grabbing his car keys. Shoving a pair of sunglasses on her face, she flashed him a toothy grin and left.
Retaliation, a fabulous word.1