Chapter 6
I've killed a lot of people, most of whom deserved it. Some of them just got in the way.
I didn't always enjoy it. Sometimes I still don't. Just because someone is bad doesn't mean they don't have a family or people who love them.
Most of the time, the people closest to them aren't aware of the things they do.
They don't realize the face they find comfort in is the face of someone else's tormentor.
Nash here deserves it, and every other fucking thing I'm about to give him and more. Sadly, I just don't have the time to deal with him properly.
Knocking the chair aside, I walk across the room to where Nash lies in the doorway, so close to escape yet so very far away. I'd rather give him a quick death and slit his throat than let him back out into the world.
Good thing I don't need to worry about that, though.
Bending down, I grab his ankle, not bothering to pull the knives out. I'll get them back, eventually. For now, I have more important things to focus on.
I pull him back to the spot where the chair was a moment ago before I drop his leg, and this time, he doesn't attempt to move.
I'm not sure if I'm disappointed by that or happy to get to the justice part, but nonetheless, I'm excited to use my new monster cock.
"Zan, honey, will you grab me the spikes, the cuffs, and the bars, please?
" He's up and running to the table before I've even finished listing what I need, and I can't help but shake my head at him.
He's so excited, and honestly, it’s one of my favorite things about Zander.
He's always so excited to do just about anything with or for me.
Zander comes back, dropping some of the supplies at my feet before quickly moving around in front of Nash to start putting the cuffs on his wrists. I begin to do the same to his ankles.
"What are you doing?" The terror in Nash's voice is music to my ears. I ignore his question, and so does Zander, and it only takes us a second to get the cuffs on him before we’re moving for the bars. We’ve practiced both here and in the bedroom. They're always fun times.
With the cuffs on both his wrists and ankles, we attach the bars to keep him where we want him, or almost where we want him.
In order for him to be in the perfect position, I'm going to have to remove my bullseye.
Pity.
Oh well. I pull the knife loose, and Nash's scream is like a teenage girl, so loud it echoes down the hall and back to us.
Thank God the shed is out on the back of the club property near the woods and away from what would be the crowded front of the building.
With the knife out, Zander moves next to me, bending down to wrap his arm around Nash's waist and haul his ass up into the air.
I'm not sure what you know about getting fucked in the ass, but it requires your ass to be in the air, and although I don't think Nash will want this, I'm going to make it hard for him to resist.
Nash is still crying about his leg when Zander yanks my other knife out, chuckling when he once again howls in agony. I'm not sure what makes Zander happier right now: the blood that's slowly becoming a large accent to our outfits or the way Nash keeps crying.
Probably both.
With Zander holding him up, I move to the spikes.
Think spike strip, like the cops use to stop cars, but homemade and with about one hundred times as many spikes that are way sharper, thanks to Zander's love of sharpening things.
I move the board so that it's under our friend, and without warning, Zander releases him.
I'd intended to warn him, if only so that he doesn't end up bleeding out or a fucking pincushion before I get to try out my new toy.
But I guess there's always someone else to try it on.
Our work is never done, which is both daunting and reassuring.
It's always nice to be needed.
Zander's lips pull down in a frown when Nash's knees hit the ground right next to the spike board, and stop him from falling on it. I can't help but laugh.
"No pouting. We’re about to get to the best part," I tell him, walking back over to him and hopping up on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.
Of course, I should have known better. Instead of being happy with my little kiss, he snags my waist and turns his head so that our lips are pressed together as he attempts to devour me.
That's my bad. Zander is insatiable on the best days, but down here in the fungeon, he's a fucking freak, my freak.
"Seriously, just let me go, and I'll never tell a soul about this. I'll get you all the money you want—anything you need. Please." Nash's pleading breaks through our moment, and I push Zander back. He stumbles a step before he catches himself, blowing me a kiss with a laugh.
Fucker.
"Sorry, Nash, but that's not how this works.
The only way to ensure you never touch another student is to take the choice away from you.
They deserve to be safe, but they also deserve to know that justice has been served, which we intend to take care of right now.
" Zander quickly cuts the boxers off of him, and he lets out a whimper that makes me wonder if he knows what's coming.
Is he smart enough to put two and two together?
Only one way to find out.
I walk slowly around him so that I'm once again up by his head, and he looks up at me, eyes wide with panic. "Pick a number, Nash, one or two."
He doesn't answer, and I cock a brow at him. "Either you can pick, or I'll just decide for you. I figured it would be more fun if you felt like you had a chance, but it doesn't matter to me," I tell him with a shrug and purse my lips when he still doesn't choose one.
"Two," Zander says, and I can't help but smile.
"It's your lucky day, Nash," I tell him, and he looks up at me with his wobbling lip, and I have to resist the urge to kick him in the fucking face.
Fun first.
I turn away from him and head to the table. From here, all Nash can see is my back, and I take my sweet time letting him sweat.
"Are you going to let me go?" he finally asks, just when I'd begun to think he would stay silent.
Zander barks a laugh, and I chuckle but don't respond.
Instead, I turn around to face him so that he can see the monster cock in my hand and the lube I'm currently pouring on it.
Honestly, I know Zander is probably kicking himself for picking two when one would have been dry, but it's worth it for the look on Nash's face.
Not to mention, I doubt this big ass thing would have made it in his ass without some help.
It still might not. As big as the monster cock is, it's also silicone, which means it's got a bit of flop to it.
But I'm willing to give it a try, and worst-case scenario, it's not like I can't stretch him out with just about anything here.
I'd happily fuck him with the leg of the chair if it were my only option. This is about justice and pain, not about him enjoying it.
I move back to Nash, crouching down to grip his hair and yank his head back until his eyes meet mine.
"Do me a favor and tell me about your favorite student again. What was her name..." I pause, pursing my lips and pretending to think about it despite knowing it already.
"Z—Zela," he stammers, his voice low and timid.
"That's it! Zela, the sixth grader, you thought you could take advantage of because she came from a fucking shithole on the wrong side of town. Nobody would believe her anyway, right? Isn't that what you told her?" I yank his hair hard, and he whimpers but doesn’t confirm or deny what I said.
It’s smart, I guess. If he never confirms he did it, then he probably thinks we might decide he’s innocent or that if someone saves him, we won’t have anything on him. But that only works if he leaves this room, which he won’t be doing, at least not yet.
He just doesn't know that yet.
“Too bad for you; those are my side of the tracks, and I care.” I release his hair and wipe my hand on my pants as if touching him has made me dirty. It has, and honestly, I can’t wait to shower, but that's for later.
I push to stand and walk back around behind him, ready to get this over with and handle him. I’m sick of watching him breathe easily, like he deserves oxygen. It’s wasted on him.
“What are you going to do to me?” His voice has a hint of hysteria as he struggles to watch me and fails to do so. He can only turn so far with his wrists and ankles cuffed and barred, not to mention the mean row of spikes below him.
“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind’?” I ask, and he nods, no doubt agreeing with that line of thinking.
I myself have never understood it.
“Well, I’m more of an ‘If I have to be blind, so do you’ kind of girl.”
Zander is all gloved up and happily takes the dildo from me so I can put mine on as well. I’m not squeamish; blood and guts don’t bother me, but I’d rather not get shit on me if I can help it.
I take the dildo back, and Zander moves forward, dropping a hand on Nash’s ass that makes him jerk forward—giving him the first taste of exactly what kind of torture this will be. He’s free to move away from this, but doing so will end with him as a pincushion.
The choice is his, but I know what most people will do. Being raped in the ass with a monster cock won’t be comfortable. In fact, I’m hoping it will be terrible, but it wouldn’t be the same as lying down on a bed of spikes that will cut into you like you are butter.
There’s pain, and then there’s death, and I’m not sure anyone’s ever died from a dildo in the ass, no matter how much they didn’t like it. Although this monster cock might be a different situation, if one could kill you, well, I’d say it was this one.
I press the cock to his ass, and he jumps forward enough to hit the spikes before he yells out. Without thought, he quickly presses backward, pushing the dildo in even further than I had it.