Bayou Bishops Box Set: Books 1-12

CHAPTER 9

Maggie smiled at the note she found after she showered. She looked around, wondering where he’d gone. She opened the envelope, ready to take his test, dying to know what sort it would be given he was the Stealth Master.

Cameras are on and all are watching. Follow the sounds and find me. If you fail to find me, you lose. If you find me, you win. What will you lose and what will you win? Roll the Gauntlet Dice on the table then pick a note from the jar next to the coffee pot that matches the number of your roll.

She stood and looked, immediately spying the jar next to the coffee pot. She grabbed the dice and rolled. Six. That was a middle number.

She hurried to the jar and found the note with the number six and opened it. Sometimes in life, the middle of the road means you don’t win and you don’t lose. And sometimes it means you win and you lose. In this game, if you win, you must flog me. And if you lose, you must flog me. Roll the dice again to determine how many minutes you have to win or lose. The number also represents how long you must flog me. For every minute you go over the time to find me, the number of flogs is multiplied by that number.

I hope to see you soon

Love Spook

Maggie stood there with her mouth hanging open in shock. She picked up the dice and rolled. “Four!”

She hurried to the bathroom and re-dressed in her dirty clothes then shot out the house. “Spook?” she yelled after she jumped from the porch. Sun was at the three o’clock mark it seemed.

She listened, closing her eyes then finally heard a whistle. She spun and ran in the direction of the sound.

Another noise brought her to a sudden stop. Not a whistle. She headed toward the noise then stopped, panting with indecision. She spun around and continued in her original direction.

****

Bishop had taken all the darkness looming over his head and put it all in the test for his Petite. All that was left was making it through. Because it would be as big a test for him as it would be for her. Not because he feared pain, he fucking hated bringing hers. But there was no way around it, she had to go through it. Because if the Fate Dice decided she would serve as his right hand, then she fucking needed to know what that could require of her. He’d gone over everything. Wrote it all down. From the moment he’d met her to the moment he recorded the facts of the matter. She was a weak link where there could be no weak links. Her kindness blinded her to evils and her goodness endangered her, him, and their future family. Hell it endangered every family in the swamp. The higher up you were the greater the consequences of your actions. She needed to understand that. If Fate decided she ruled with him, then he’d make damn sure she was capable of it no matter how painful it was for her and him. It had to be done. That was his responsibility as The Eveque, leader of the Hoard, protector of the families in the swamps.

He placed the duct tape on the table and his knife. The directives were all written down in the jar next to the Gauntlet Dice. He chose black and white methods. Simple and straight forward. And the name of his test for her was simple as it was cliché—No Pain, No Gain.

He waited in the chair with his shirt off in only jeans. He angled his head when the shower cut off. A few minutes later, the door opened.

“Are there…cameras here?”

“No, Ma Petite,” he said, softly.

She made her way over, wearing the white terrycloth robe all the shacks had been stocked with.

“Sit,” he instructed.

She opened the only other chair and sat, eyeing him. He eyed her back, bracing to remove that sparkle from her pretty eyes. “You see that duct tape?”

She looked and nodded.

“You’ll use it to secure my lower legs to this chair. After you do that, I’ll tell you what’s next.”

“Oh boy,” she whispered, taking the tape from the table with resolve and kneeling next to his chair. Bishop waited quietly while she wrapped the tape several rounds.

“Like that?”

“More wraps,” he said.

She obeyed silently and he listened as that slim chance of rain in the forecast found their tiny tin roof.

“It’s raining,” she said quietly before standing. “Is that good?”

“It is,” he said, after testing the hold. “You can sit again.” She did and again they stared at one another for many seconds. Her courage was already shaken. Good. “The name of your test is No Pain, No Gain. The test is straight forward. You’ll roll the Gauntlet Dice and pick the number you roll from the jar and follow what it says.”

The heat in her gaze and smile said she thought this was a marriage sex game. He wished. She rolled the dice and looked. “Seven.” Taking the jar, she dug around for a paper with a number seven on it. He watched her open it and read it. Then he watched her smile disappear and her brows pull together. “But…seven isn’t a low roll. This is a punishment. And…for you.”

“I’m the Game Master of this game. I get to decide what the dice rolls mean. And as you can see, seven means pain. What does it say exactly?”

“That I have to cut you with the knife on the table.”

He nodded. “Roll the dice to see how many times.”

She stared at him. “What do you mean cut you?”

He nodded at the knife. “With that blade. You create about three inch slices on my skin. Roll to see how many you have to create.”

She suddenly stood and turned her back to him. She sucked in a huge breath and spun back around and rolled the dice.

“Nine,” he said when she just stared at them.

“I can’t…cut you nine times, Bishop.”

“I forgot to tell you that if you don’t complete the directive, I have to. Only the number is doubled.”

She gasped. “What?! This is…is this a joke?”

“No. It’s a test.”

“I don’t understand how this helps me? How does cutting you help me? Are you wanting me to be a violent person?”

“If you have to be, yes,” he said.

“Well, in a real situation, I would happily cut anybody threatening you.”

He chuckled, lowering his head.

“And now you want me to be the one to threaten you?”

“Is that a no?” He reached and took the knife from the table, turning his arm. “That means you’re cutting me eighteen times instead of nine.”

“Stop!” she shot out after the first cut. “Are you fucking for real right now? What is this, Bishop? Help me understand.”

He created the second cut on his skin.

“Stop! I mean it.”

He made the third cut.

“Bishop, I’ll walk out of here.”

“Do that and we’re over.” He slid the knife over his skin a fourth time. Then a fifth.

“Why are you doing this?” she sobbed before hurrying over and taking the knife from him. “Fine, you want me to cut you, I’ll cut you.”

He watched as her hand shook with the knife. She placed it on his skin, her gasps getting louder and faster. She threw the knife and scrambled away, wiping her tears. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Remember the first night we met? When you gave me the name of your hotel room? Because you’re just a nice and trusting person? Gullible. Na?ve.”

“Yes, I know I was gullible and na?ve.”

“Are,” he corrected. “You are still this person. Only now, you’re over other people who count on you not to be gullible and na?ve. Because we both know what can happen to women who are gullible and na?ve, don’t we Ma Petite? They get abducted and sold into sex slavery. Only most of them don’t escape it like you did. Now your kind, gullible, na?ve ways will put more than you at risk. Is that what you want?”

She wiped her tears. “Of course it isn’t but this situation isn’t even remotely sane or similar to anything in reality, Sahvrin.”

“You can cut my pain in half by giving me the cuts. I have a second knife in my pocket if you choose not to cooperate.”

She let go another sob and paced next to him. “So I’m being punished for being kind?”

He eyed her for many seconds. “No. I am. You are too kind to cut me and because of that I get more pain. Your kindness has a very ugly side, Ma Petite. Seems it can cut too. I wonder if we kept playing this game if it could kill. I’m betting it could.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I would never let that happen.”

“Prove it,” he challenged.

She turned her back, putting her hands over her face.

“In the real world, Beth, your kindness can cost you. Your indecisions.” He pulled out his pocket knife and opened it. “Your sweet nature can bring blood and pain like you never imagined,” he seethed, on his tenth cut.

“Stop! Please stop it!” she screamed.

“Then cut me!” he roared at her. “Nine cuts or eighteen, Beth. Don’t think, just do it!”

****

Maggie stopped running when she reached where her brain said was the location. She looked all around. “Spook!” she hissed.

He let out a whistle and she looked up. “Found me,” he said, dropping to the ground before her.

She lunged on him, kissing him. “What kind of game is this? I don’t like it.”

“We can talk about it back at the shack while you fulfill your directive.”

“Flogging you? For four minutes?”

He hooked his arm in hers and kissed the tip of her nose. “Yes.”

She walked back with him trying to wrap her head around the meaning of the training. “I don’t get it, Spook,” she finally said, giving up. “What does this training mean? What’s the point?”

“Trust,” he said simply.

“Who am I trusting?”

“Who do you think?”

“You?”

“I am your leader, you are my right hand.”

She walked in silence for a full minute. “What does me flogging you do?”

“Hurts me.”

“And…how does that help me?” she wondered, totally stumped on the illogic of it.

“I guess we’ll find out?”

“You don’t know?” she wondered, more perturbed.

“I do but I can’t tell you. You have to learn it or win that knowledge fair and square.”

She huffed shaking her head. “And…what’s flogging exactly?”

“It’s a painful discipline that’s conducted with a flogger. Has a handle with a bunch of leather strands.”

“For what?”

“Flogging,” he laughed.

“Where?”

“My back.”

She walked in more confused silence, her anger growing as she went because no matter how she turned it over in her head, the logic of it escaped her. “What did you do wrong to need discipline?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you getting disciplined?” she cried, exasperated. “I thought this was a for real test, this isn’t even making sense!”

“It will.”

“Well it damn well better.”

****

Spook was having a hard time keeping a straight face with Maggie. She was like a dream. Now to see how much of a dream and how long it would last. Back at the shack, he removed his shirt and handed her the flogger.

She took it, looking at it. “What kind of shit is this?”

He turned his back to her to hide his smile. “It’s a flogger.”

“But for what? What animal is this made for?”

His snicker slipped out. “Any animal.”

“So I have to stand right behind you and smack you with these…spaghetti straps?”

Fuck she was fun. “Yes. For four minutes. Time starts now.”

She got right to it all while complaining about how stupid it was. He jerked when she kept hitting him in the exact same spot, not even paying attention to anything but her rant.

“The tests were going so good and actually made sense till now. Who made this test up? Please don’t say you. Are you keeping track of the time?”

“Yes,” he strained, fighting not to laugh.

“How many minutes left of this?” she asked, sounding ripped off. “Oh my God,” she cried. “Is this frilly belt drawing blood?” she cried in disbelief.

Frilly belt. He couldn’t wait to fuck her. “Two more minutes.”

“It is drawing blood!” she said, pissed.

“Feel free to mark up other parts of my back.”

“Really!?” she said. “How kind of you.” She worked his lower back now. “I feel so ridiculous. I hope you do too. Are we being watched?” she asked, like she’d lose her shit if they were.

“No.”

“Well thank God for that! Who made this test again? You never said.”

“I did.”

“Fuck you!” she erupted incredulous, smacking away. “There is no way you’d come up with something this childish!”

Finally the time was up and he stepped away from the incoming whacks, sure she was getting faster and harder as she ranted on. “Done.”

She threw the flogger across the room as Spook made his way to the table, his laughter getting harder to hold down.

“Are we done?” she asked. “Because I didn’t learn a damn thing other than maybe you’re really a masochist posing as an idiot.”

His laugh ripped out at that one. “Get your cute ass to this table and roll the dice for round two.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. He pointed to the table. She stormed over and rolled the dice then dug through the jar for the matching number roll which was nine. He sat in the chair careful not to lean back as he waited for her to read what was next.

“Flog your fucking legs Spook? I rolled a nine!”

He began removing his jeans. “You can quit,” he said.

“Quit what?”

“The test.”

She stared at him, her head shaking with her anger. “I think by now you know I have difficulty quitting. Are you using that against me?” she wondered.

Hearing the threat weighing in her tone put happy little bubbles in his blood. “Not against you, Maggie. Why would I be against you? We’re a team.”

She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her other hip now cocked with her jaw, accusing dead-stare locked on him. “We’re a team huh? That’s what this is? Teamwork?” She was nodding slowly then it gained speed. “Alright, Monte. Let’s play your little teamwork game.”

Oh shit. “Good,” he said, gesturing to the dice. “Roll the dice to find out how long you flog me.”

She snatched the dice from the table and shook them viciously in her hand while still glaring at him. She let it go. “Oh, would you look at that. I have to flog your legs for ten minutes.” She stalked across the room and fetched the flogger.

“Where would you like me?”

“Come to think of it, I’m tired of standing. You get here so I can sit while making fools of us.”

“There’s a purpose,” he assured.

“You sure are having a good time while getting it with these glorified shoestrings. Sooooo funny too. That’s pretty telling, and I do not like what it’s telling me Spook.” She seemed to be focusing on a single spot and he moved a little to redirect the not so soft whacks now. “Stand still big man, I’m not chasing you with this pom-pom.”

Spook looked at his watch, his laughter uncontainable. He needed to switch gears and become the loser beggar and plead for her to stop. That was the final test.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, I quit,” he finally managed.

“Are the minutes up?” she wondered, whipping him like the amount of hits she landed meant everything.

“No, but I’m the leader.”

“Yes you are! And you said ten minutes.”

“It’s been five, that’s long enough.”

“Bullshit! We came this far down lame lane, we need to finish the test then we’re done. Stop being dramatic and dancing around! I know you can take it, Spook.”

At the eight-minute mark, she huffed, “I hope whatever this is supposed to do was worth it. God, now your legs are bleeding!” And that pissed her off even more. “Would serve you right if these left scars. Maybe that’s what you want, some scars? What if I don’t like scars on you? What if I liked your body the way it is? Doesn’t that matter? And how are we supposed to fuck with your entire backside bleeding out?”

The moment the time was up, Spook spun and yanked the flogger from her and kissed her. “I’ll show you how we’re supposed to fuck, Miss Spook.” He turned her around and yanked the straps of her overalls off her shoulders and shoved them to the floor. He did the same to her panties then pushed her legs open, sliding his cock between her ass cheeks.

“Spook!”

“Yeah baby?”

In seconds Maggie turned into his succulent, angel, her moans and gasps bringing a terrible hunger in him. He shoved his cock in to the very bottom of her, gasping at her shriek of shock. He held her hips tight, lifting her ass more while jerking her against him till her fucking screams lit his world on fire.

“This is how we’re going to fuck. Is my cock pounding you hard enough?”

“Yes! Oh God, Spook,” she cried, grabbing hold of the small table.

“I’m going to come, you want that?”

“Yes!”

He pulled out and spun her around sitting her on the table. He held one leg back and shoved back into her as she grabbed his neck with a hand, holding the table with the other. Her head fell back as she screamed and met his bucking hips.

“Take my fucking cock baby. Every fucking hard inch.” His orgasm raged forward and turned him into a wrecking ball. As he came, every laceration on his backside seemed to climax with its own burning agony.

“It’s done,” he gasped when his orgasm began to subside. “Test is over,” he said winded. “Had to see if you would cave when required to hurt me.”

“Maybe I would if I wasn’t using that wad of lace.”

He laughed as he kissed her, moaning. “You made good fucking use of it. I’ll be feeling that for the next week.”

“You’re no stranger to pain,” she whispered, petting his face while kissing him.

“And you’re not stranger to giving it.”

She smiled on his mouth. “Don’t know what you mean. I’m an angel.”

His cock hardened as he kissed her back. “Yes you are. And it’s time for my angel to orgasm.”