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Coercion 37 Life Sculpture
Some 5 weeks later...
Spike dialed his pre-paid cell phone one handed as he
continued to work the fingers of his other hand. “Hey Pet. Sorry to wake you
up. … I’m somewhere you never want to be again. … Yeah. Oxnard… . I’ve
made good money. … No, not washing dishes. Stripping.” Spike watched his
fingers slide in and out of the man he’d tied to his bed. “Oh, and one night
I made a killing at poker. … Of course I cheated. I emptied every one of their
G-strings. Of money, that is.” Spike winked at the man and added his fourth finger.
“I’ve been behaving. I’ve not killed anyone. Yet.” The man pulled at the
hemp ropes again at Spike’s words and tried to call out against the gag. “That? Oh, I’ve got company.” Spike pulled his
slippery fingers out and snatched the man’s wallet from his shoe. “One sec.
How’s the job?” Spike opened the wallet and read the driver’s license.
“It’s a Mr. T. Chester Whitney. Big business type. I believe you’re
acquainted…. Yep. Hemp rope, ball gag. You know, you should have held out for
more, Pet. Once this bastard felt how tight I was, I worked him up to four
thou.” Holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder, Spike
went through the wallet. “Bullshit. You’re every bit as pretty as I am.”
Spike pulled out all the money and counted it. The man’s eyes grew wider as
blue eyes flecked with gold turned to him. “There’s only two thousand, three
hundred and some change here. … Yeah, he’s a rapist and a lair. … Hold on,
pet. I want to give the man his wallet back.” Spike laid the phone on the
man’s chest, removed all the cash and closed up the slim wallet. “Too bad
you’re not one of these guys who keeps every scrap of paper he’s given.”
Spike pinched the thick leather and folded it in half again. Mr. Whitney
frantically whipped his head from side to side. Spike rubbed lube on the leather
and the man strained against the ropes that kept his legs up and spread. Spike
had professionally installed the I-bolts in the walls of his cheap hotel room
weeks before. The man screamed against the gag as Spike swiftly thrust the
wallet and his hand deep inside. He wiped his hand on a towel and picked up the phone
again. “You there? … No, he’ll live. … Drink from him? I wouldn’t feed
him to my minions. If I had any.” He gleefully watched Mr. Whitney weeping.
“No, he didn’t fuck me. I wouldn’t let him. No one but you, pet. … Oh,
he started out all sweet like you said. Then, wonder of wonders, his phone rang
and he said he had to hurry it up.” Spike picked up the man’s phone and
opened it. “I didn’t hear anyone on the other end. … Guess what? It’s
one of those fancy ones that has an alarm setting on it. Huh. And he's got
"'Eye of the Tiger' as an optional ring tone.” Spike memorized some of
the numbers and changed some of the settings. “Do you think I should give him
his phone back? … It’s a tiny Japanesey thing.” Spike chuckled. “I bet
it’s water resistant. … Hold on.” Spike crammed the phone up inside Mr. Whitney to join
his wallet. Spike wiped his hands and picked up his phone again. “Oh yeah,
he’s crying. … There’s a sweet little adult toy shop in town now. I picked
us up some play pretties. … Yes, but a little bigger. And some nifty shapes… I got one for our friend here, too.” Spike watched the
man’s face as he opened the bedside drawer and pulled out his new purchase.
“It’s black. Solid black. It’s about fourteen inches long, and, oh, five
inches across. … No, it’s that older rubber stuff. It’s not a nice
silicone. … Yeah, it’s got veins and balls.” Spike held it up so Mr.
Whitney could see. “The best part, it’s got a loop on the base so you can
strap it on. Or in. … Got a nice show here, Pet. I wish you could see. Shoulda
gotten us phones with cameras. … Yeah, his face is all red. Tears are
streaming. He’s all snotty and it’s hard for him to breathe around the gag.
I think he’s come to realize this is his payback for being such a fucking
bastard. … Shall I give him his present? Oh, now he’s thrashing his head
back and forth. … Sure, anything you want, Pet.” Spike put the phone on the
man’s chest again, removed the gag, and before he could say anything, he
grabbed up the unlubed dildo and shoved it up Mr. Whitney’s ass. Quickly, he
took three lengths of rope from the drawer and tied the heavy thing in place. Spike let him cry out for a few minutes before gagging
him again. “Like that pet? … Yeah, there’s some blood. Not a great deal. I
was gentle.” Spike smirked. “Room service will come up here in about four
hours. Plenty of time for me to be gone. … Where? That’s up to you.” Spike turned away from the weeping man. “I’ve
proven I’m a monster and I understand if…. Really? … You sure? …Yeah,
William wants it. … Thank you, Love. I’ll see you in
a matter of days. … I’ll call often on the way back. … Now that I
think about it, remind me to call our friend here. Seems his phone could be set
to ring and vibrate at the same time.” Spike ignored the muffled cries as he
packed up the few things he’s left laying around. “Oh, from a pay phone.
I’ll leave it off the hook until it’s answered. … I’m going to shower,
then I’m on my way. … You too.” On his way out, Spick flipped a tube of hemorrhoid cream onto the man’s chest. “I hear it works wonders,” he said and left.
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